Harry Potter and The Trust
by Meandering Fox
Summary: Harry goes to sleep at 31, but wakes up on his 10th birthday in the cupboard under the stairs. Voldemort is still alive, as are many others. Can Harry end the second war before it starts? DH compliant, mostly. Bill, Remus, Dumbledore, and many more...
1. Wake Up

_Hi there. This is my first story. Be gentle, and all that. Reviews appreciated._

**Wake Up**

It was a normal summer morning in Little Whinging. Privet Drive was still as the sun rose, and the only thing to be heard was the repetitive clicks of lawn sprinklers and the gentle rain from them striking the sidewalks. A few cars started up and drivers began their commute. A door in need of an oiling squeaked open and closed quietly, doing its best to cause as little commotion as possible. The inhabitants of Privet Drive strived to do the same...

Cause as little commotion as possible.

It was a very normal neighborhood, and causing a commotion wasn't normal. As more front doors opened, neighbors waved hello and wished each other good morning.

Everything was calm and peaceful as the sky turned a light blue over Privet Drive. Everything was normal, usual and perfectly acceptable.

Inside number 4 Privet Drive, the same could be said. Birdsongs floated through the windows and the peacefulness of early morning seemed to soak into the walls. Pictures of a family of three hung on the walls. A large man with an equally large mustache stood behind a woman sitting in a chair in one picture. She was holding a pudgy child in her lap. The woman, who was quite thin, seemed to have pasted a smile on her face to cover what might have been a grimace. The man standing behind her looked into the camera with an expression of aggressive pride, almost challenging the photographer to make the picture anything but perfect.

On the second floor Dudley Dursley, now dangerously obese, was sleeping on his back, snoring lightly. His protruding stomach did not allow him to sleep in any other position, and this caused a slight snoring problem that his parents found quite endearing.

In a bedroom just down the hall, Petunia Dursley awoke with the sun shining in her face through a spectacularly clean window. Blinking slowly, she sat up in bed and rubbed her face. In the same bed Vernon Dursley slept on, his mouth open, breathing heavily. Petunia looked at him and smiled sickly.

Gently, she put her hand on her husband's arm and shook him awake. Vernon blinked his eyes slowly. It was five-thirty in the morning and he had a very important meeting at work in a few hours.

"Morning, love," his wife whispered in his ear. "It's time to wake up. You need to be at work by nine, isn't that right?"

Grumbling a bit, Vernon yawned. Looking at his wife he smiled and asked, "What do you feel like for breakfast?"

"Hmm," she thought a moment. "I believe...an omelet."

"An omelet, eh?"

She smiled at him, "Yes, dear. An omelet with ham and cheese would be wonderful this morning. And some juice as well."

Vernon grunted and stood up next to the bed, stretching. Placing his slippers and robe over his sleep-wear, he left the room and began to walk down the stairs.

Underneath those very stairs slept a small boy. As Vernon Dursley traveled over him, the boy was covered by a small amount of dust sprinkled over his face. His messy black hair was greasy and hadn't been washed in several days. The clothes he wore were much too large to fit his scrawny frame. His cousin had worn holes into the shirt and pants because of his bulk. To Harry Potter and his abnormally small build, they were much too large. Dudley was a ten year old going on fifteen. Harry looked at if he was seven years old and not the ten he truly was, as of today.

Today was Harry's 10th birthday, though he didn't know that. The Dursley's never let him read the newspaper or watch the television, but that's not why he had no idea of the date...

"BOY!" A booming crash woke Harry as Vernon banged on the door to the cupboard. Harry shot up in bed, flicking his wrist to grab ahold of his wand. Nothing happened. There was no wand.

Without thought, Harry turned his head and body in every direction, reaching out desperately, trying to locate his wand. His fingers slammed into the wall of the cupboard, bending backwards in a manner that was not meant to be. A shooting pain shot through his arm, and he jerked his hand back.

"What the hell...?" He wondered to himself, trying to calm his breathing and figure out what was going on.

"BOY! Get out here and make some breakfast! Your Aunt wants an omelet with ham and cheese and I need to leave for the office by eight."

BANG. Another kick to the door made Harry jump.

"If you're not done by the time I get out of the shower, you're not leaving that damn cupboard for a week!" Vernon Dursley had eaten the same thing for breakfast for the past week and knew the boy wouldn't change anything unless he was ordered otherwise. He walked back up the stairs to take his shower, stomping up the stairs to let loose a little bit of extra dust on his worthless nephew.

The menacing yell from nowhere had startled Harry as he was still trying to get his bearings and understand exactly where he was. This was not his home. He was definitely not in his study.

A slight glow from the floor showed a narrow opening, indicating a door. He patted himself down for his wand and, finding nothing, slowly reached around the small room.

As his hand he had jammed earlier came into contact with the ceiling just a few inches above his head, the pain made him realize that if this was a dream, it was a very involved and realistic one.

Harry used his other hand and felt around the easy to reach ceiling. A minute later he felt something tickle his wrist. Jerking back, he landed on something hard, a rod of some sort. Taking a few breaths, Harry slowly reached back up and tried to find what had just come into contact with his hand. He brushed something light, thin and a bit fuzzy. Wrapping his fingers around what seemed to be a piece of twine, Harry pulled down and was blinded by light.

Blinking for several seconds, Harry opened his eyes and looked up at what was a very low powered light bulb. Scanning his immediate surroundings, he stared open mouthed at the door he had seen light shining under a few minutes earlier. As his eyes rose, he let out a startled gasp and then quickly silenced himself.

Written above the short and filthy door on an old and worn piece of cardboard were two words, "HARRY'S ROOM". He was in his old cupboard at number 4 Privet Drive. The shouts from earlier finally wound their way into his consciousness.

"BOY!" "BREAKFAST!" "YOU'RE NOT LEAVING THAT DAMN CUPBOARD FOR A WEEK!"

No. No! There is no way that this was happening. It was impossible...

But as his thoughts trailed off, Harry realized that since he had been born he had done the impossible, whether he liked it or not. He usually didn't. Whether he meant to or not, over and over again he had defied the rules of magic and laws of the wizarding world. Was this a vision? Some sort of hallucinogen slipped to him in a drink? What sort of potion could do something like this?

Since leaving Hogwarts the year after the final battle, Harry had learned more about potions than he had in the six years he had studied them in school. He could think of nothing that would be able to create such a realistic hallucination.

Flexing his strained hand and fingers, he figured out that nothing was broken and slowly pushed outward. The light in the hallway was even more brilliant to his eyes than it had been in the cupboard and he had to squint and blink several times before being able to see clearly.

Even then, he realized things were still blurry and knew that he needed to find his glasses. His glasses...something he hadn't had need for since getting his vision corrected by some muggle doctors that he met through Hermione's parents.

As he turned back to the cupboard and picked up the black-frames held together with masking tape, several things hit him at once.

He was at the Dursley's, still needed his glasses and Vernon was alive! Bloody hell! What was going on here?

Harry hadn't been to number 4 Privet Drive since the night he left before his 7th year. After coming out of hiding at the end of the war, the Dursley's had been forced to move since most of Privet Drive had either been outright destroyed or heavily damaged. Out of guilt, Harry had offered to purchase them a new house wherever they wanted and at any cost. He had the money to spare between the Potter and Black fortunes, but Vernon would have nothing to do with it until Petunia had intervened and they had come to an agreement. Harry would match them and pay for half of whatever house they decided on.

So much had changed during the year they had been in hiding. Admittedly, Vernon hadn't, but Petunia and Dudley, having kept up with wizarding news during the year, were almost likable by the time they had been released from their safe-house. Or at least a bit more understanding.

Harry shook his head and suddenly felt dizzy. Putting his hand on the wall to steady himself, he felt blood rush to his head and closed his eyes waiting for it to pass. After a moment he was able to stand on his own and looked around.

Everything looked the way it had. It was the same house he had grown up in. The same perfectly manicured prison. The same family portraits lined the hallway, each year with Dudley looking bigger and fatter, while Petunia and Vernon stayed the same. No sign of Harry in any picture, and if he hadn't known better he wouldn't think he existed. It was exactly what the Dursley's wanted people to think.

He slowly shuffled down the hallway towards the foot of the stairs and front door. As he approached the door, he looked to his right and noticed the large mirror hanging on the wall. As he stared into it, he almost collapsed.

Staring back at him was Harry Potter, a small child. He was extremely thin, almost emaciated. His hair was greasy and clumped together. The shock awoke his sense of smell and he caught the scent of unwashed clothing soaked with sweat and what had to have been dried urine. Harry had trouble not retching right there in the hallway.

He turned towards the door, desperate to run outside and wake himself from this too real nightmare. Harry reached for the door but paused in thought for a moment. He needed to plan this. He couldn't go running around aimlessly and terrified like he actually _was_ a young child. He was an auror. He had to act like one.

Slowly, Harry looked down at the floor and closed his eyes. Taking a long, calming breath through his mouth he could feel his muscles relaxing enough for him to think clearly. Opening his eyes, he realized he had no shoes. Quickly walking back to his cupboard, Harry searched and quickly found a pair of grubby trainers that were at least three sizes too big for his feet. Grabbing an extra pair of socks, he shoved them into the toes and then tightly laced them up so they wouldn't fall off if he needed to run anywhere.

Above his head, he could hear the shower turn on as Vernon began to bathe. The sound of a door opening and closing lightly alerted him to the fact that Petunia was awake, as well. Hearing her lightly pad across the upstairs hallway to Dudley's room, Harry crawled back out of the cupboard and crouched, waiting for what he remembered as the traditional 'Dudley wake up' routine that Petunia had gone through every morning that Harry could remember until he left for Hogwarts.

Hearing the light knocks on the bedroom door, Harry stayed motionless until Petunia walked into the room, "Duddikins...it's time to wake up..."

The sound of the bedroom door closing signaled his chance to escape. Gliding forward, Harry opened the front door as swiftly as he could and was rewarded with only a slight squeak of the hinges. He turned and closed it slowly, trying not to make a sound. An almost inaudible 'click' told him he had been successful, and hopefully the Dursley's would have no idea he had left until they realized that there would be no breakfast waiting.

Walking swiftly down the sidewalk, Harry's mind was spinning. It was warm outside, especially for being so early in the morning. The sun was not very high, and the dampness in the grass from the morning dew had yet to burn away. Most of the driveways were still filled with cars. As he passed by house after house he saw a few people walking out through their front doors. A couple of the neighbors gave him a glance and a look of disapproval mixed with something Harry thought must be pity.

Reflecting on that, he realized if he had seen himself walking down the street in hand-me-down rags several sizes too big in the filthy condition he was in, he might have had the same look on his face. If he was heartless and obsessed with appearances, he mused.

He needed to know the date. What year was it? It was obviously summer, too hot to be anything but. Vernon was alive and Harry had woken up in the cupboard under the stairs... He must be eleven years old or younger...

Merlin! Voldemort was still alive!

Harry stopped suddenly and barely avoided a car backing out of the driveway he had paused in. Dodging it quickly, he began walking quickly, thinking hard. His pace increased until he took off running as fast as he could. He missed the looks from several people who were staring after the filthy boy awkwardly running in his too-large shoes.

He stopped running as he reached the neighborhood park, a park he had spent quite a bit of time in as a child. A park he had hid in many times, hiding from Dudley and his gang. Hiding from the Dursley's and his miserable existence as a 'freak'. He stumbled over to a bench and had a bit of trouble getting situated on it, finally settling down and leaning against the back. His feet didn't touch the ground.

There he sat, still and quiet, eyes closed. Harry had no idea how much time had passed, but as he took deep calming breathes, he began to take control of the situation. At least in his own mind. Here he was in Little Whinging, Surrey. His childhood home.

Home? It had never felt like much of a home when he was a child...the only home he knew was Potter Manor. And Hogwarts.

Hogwarts! Harry realized that if Voldemort was still alive then so were countless others. People he hadn't seen in years. Albus Dumbledore was still alive. Sirius and Remus and Tonks and Fred and so many people he'd never thought he'd see again until it was his turn to go on the next great adventure.

Harry's breathing had begun to pick up speed again. The joy was almost overwhelming. Suddenly he stopped breathing all together.

Ginny! No... James and Albus and Lily. No...no, no, no!

He had to get back to them. He couldn't stay here, wherever here was. Or whenever. This was not real!

"This is not happening, this is not real. This is not real. Not real. Not real!"

He was muttering to himself out-loud, his soft whisper growing slightly in volume with each repetition. Harry began to hyperventilate. A tear escaped his tightly clenched eyes and rolled down his cheek.

"Hey kid, you alright?"

The voice shocked Harry out of his panic. He stopped breathing and held his breath while his eyes snapped open and sought out the source of the voice. Sitting to his left on the bench, a man sat holding a newspaper. He was wearing a loose fitting grey t-shirt and matching shorts. Sweat soaked the shirt he wore around his neck and shoulders. The man held a newspaper and a bottle of water in his lap, staring in concern at small boy next to him.

Harry looked up at his face and saw a confused, concerned look in the man's eyes. His light brown hair was damp with sweat, but his gaze was kind and considering. The man slowly reached his hand out to touch Harry on the shoulder, but as he began to move Harry moved away towards the end of the bench.

"Hey kid, I'm not going to hurt you. Relax."

Harry stood and took a step away from the man, frantically searching the park for anyone watching. Seeing no one, he looked back up at the man and stared at him. He regarded the man's face and searched his memories for anyone he knew that looked like this man. Especially Death Eaters.

The man sat calmly, not making a move after putting his hand back in his lap on top of the newspaper. Harry had a thought.

"Sir, do you know the time?" he asked in his best little boy voice.

The man stared at him for a second before looking at his wrist and then laughed quietly.

"Sorry kid, I leave my watch at home when I go running. When I left it was about seven, and I usually go for about an hour or so. It's probably around eight." The man had a smile on his face, but looked puzzled.

"Oh, thanks. Do you think I could see your newspaper, please?"

The newspaper would have the date.

Harry did his best to keep his hand from shaking as the man held out the paper to him and said, "Sure, kid," with a smile on his face.

Harry handled the paper carefully and raised it to his face, searching the corners for the date. When he found it, he almost dropped the paper on the ground.

July 31st, 1990.

"It's my birthday..." Harry mumbled, but the man heard him and smiled.

"Happy birthday!" said the man, "You doing anything for the special day?"

"Um...yeah. Yes I am. Thank you for the newspaper, sir."

He looked up and saw a smile on the man's face. He slowly edged towards the playground in the middle of the park and tried to keep his eye on the man. He stared at Harry curiously for a few seconds and then chuckled and opened his paper after taking a drink from his water bottle. Harry climbed into one of the wooden forts and sat down, barely controlling himself. The impact of the hard wood startled him out of his stupor, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

It was his birthday, and if the paper was to be believed, his tenth birthday. He was ten years old, sitting in a park in Little Whinging, and nothing was the way it should be.

He sat for several minutes, thinking. He would not be going back to the Dursley's. As much as he was able to defend himself against larger opponents, Harry had no desire to return to the house and deal with the confusion and wrath of his Aunt and Uncle. He had no wand with him to defend himself and there was no way to contact anyone he knew since he didn't have an owl.

In fact, none of the people Harry knew, knew him, he realized. He was a year away from getting his Hogwarts letter. A year away from Hagrid rescuing him from the Dursley's. A year away from meeting his friends. From meeting Ginny.

This could not be real.

He said it out loud to himself, "This can't be real!" he hissed, clenching his teeth.

Harry heard a noise and watched as the man he had spoken to on the bench had gotten to his feet and tossed his paper and bottle into a nearby rubbish bin. He jogged away from the park and Harry was alone once again. Looking through the wooden slats of the playground fort, Harry saw that the sun was a bit higher than when he had spoken to the man. With the realization that time was indeed passing, Harry made the decision to do something about his situation.

Going back to the Dursley's was not an option. He had to find someone who would be able to help him figure out what had happened, and the only name he could think was...

Dumbledore. He might know what happened. Even his portrait knew more about magic than most living wizards. But how he get to him?

Harry's animagus form of a Merlin Hawk was able to fly long distances, but his patience had been exhausted by the stress of the situation. He was tired and even though the last thing he could remember was eating a delicious meal prepared by the Manor house elf, his body felt as if it hadn't eaten in days. Remembering how he had been treated by his family at this point in his life, he realized that this was not completely outside the realm of possibility.

Just to make sure, Harry shut his eyes and cleared his mind. Concentrating on the feelings of flying and freedom, he quickly changed into his hawk form. He looked around, aware of everything inside his wooden fort. His vision was sharper and he noticed the spider webs at the top of the plastic ceiling that connected themselves to the wooden walls. Several small insects he hadn't noticed while he had been contemplating his situation skittered about.

He leaned over to the opening in the fort that passed as a door and surveyed the park. He was now very aware of all the other animals in the vicinity. Several small birds he couldn't identify sat in the trees at the edge of the park, chirping their happiness that daylight had come. On the ground, he spotted several squirrels running about, sprinting from tree to bush, searching for their breakfast.

Resisting the hawk's urge to swoop down and capture one of them for his own breakfast, Harry launched himself from the edge of the doorway and took to the sky. Soaring over the park in a lazy circle, Harry felt at ease for the first time since he had awoken to this strange new reality. His elation at the idea that he still contained all his knowledge and skills elated and calmed him. He let out a shriek of pleasure that startled the tree full of small birds who immediately took flight in the opposite direction, chirping in agitation. Soaring higher than necessary, Harry swooped downward and landed back in his wooden and plastic sanctuary.

Transforming back to human form, Harry closed his eyes and relaxed for a short time. Letting his heart slow back to its natural rhythm, he sat up and cautiously climbed back down the ladder to the earth. He realized the quickest way to get in touch with Albus Dumbledore was to disapparate. Knowing that the ministry was not as friendly to his cause as it had been in his normal time, especially with Fudge as minister, made Harry reconsider that course of action.

He didn't have an owl, and that would take too long, anyway. He couldn't fly. He was too tired. Disapparating would alert the Ministry, and probably the Death Eaters, to where he was and that he could disapparate.

Smacking himself in the head so fast he barely realized he was doing it, Harry berated himself in his mind.

Arabella! How could he have been so damned thick? He needed to start thinking and remembering who was who. It had been years since he'd seen her, but she was the only one nearby. And she was trustworthy.

Rubbing his forehead where he had hit himself harder than he had meant to, Harry started walking as quickly as possible without drawing attention to himself. As he approached Arabella's street, he spotted one of her cats who he hadn't seen since leaving Privet Drive. He recognized the attributes of a part-kneazle. Its size, mistaken by muggles as a large tomcat, and the spots on its legs and paws almost screamed kneazle. Wracking his memory, Harry attempted to remember the name of the familiar feline. Trying to recall his infrequent visits to Arabella both before and after he learned she was a squib, the names of the cats she had introduced him to and shown pictures of flitted through his mind.

Focusing on the paws that were large even for a part-kneazle, the memory of a similar cat jumping in his lap and knocking a cup of prune juice onto his shirt before kneading his stomach with those very paws, appeared in his mind. He had been about eight, and had been terrified that the Dursley's would punish him for staining the hand-me-down clothing. Arabella had taken the shirt into her laundry room and gotten rid of the stain. He had assumed that she had used some sort of detergent at the time but, after getting to know her after the war, knew that she must have used a stain-removing potion.

"_Mr. Paws!" Mrs. Figg had shouted, "Get off of Harry this instant! You know what his Aunt would say if he came home with a stain like that on his shirt."_

_The cat had given Harry a look that almost seemed pitying. Jumping down off his lap, Mr. Paws had rubbed up against Harry's legs and purred strongly, calming him. The fear that he would be punished when Uncle Vernon returned that evening had left with the stain._

"Mr. Paws?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Meow!" the cat stared up at him. The gaze was intense for a moment before he began to purr and strolled up to Harry. The cat's bright yellow eyes searched his for a moment before it moved behind him. Mr. Paws then stood on his hind legs and pushed Harry's right leg forward towards Mrs. Figg's, seeming to know their destination.

His pace a bit more relaxed, Harry walked past the last few houses before reaching Arabella Figg's. Mr. Paws trotted next to him, head swiveling in every direction, seemingly on the lookout for danger.

Entering her yard, dead patches of grass caught Harry's eye. The house had a somewhat shabby, lived in appearance that reminded him a bit of The Burrow, only much smaller and lacking magic. Still, the connection was there, in his mind at least.

He reached the front door, Mr. Paws still at his side, and knocked. After almost a minute without hearing any noise to indicate someone would be opening the door, he knocked again with a bit more force. Mr. Paws was alternating between rubbing up against Harry's legs and scratching at the door and giving him meaningful looks. Harry looked down at the cat after waiting another minute and sighed.

"I guess Arabella went to buy you some dinner, eh Mr. Paws?"

Mr. Paws stopped his scratching and sat down directly in front of Harry on the front step before him. Slowly he blinked once and proceeded to begin cleaning one of his front paws.

"Don't suppose she leaves the door unlocked...?"

"Meow!" Mr. Paws stood and began scratching at the door in response to his rhetorical question.

Well, if the door was locked he could always wait for her in the backyard.

Harry reached for the doorknob and twisted. He felt the door open. Mr. Paws darted inside and ran towards a food bowl that contained a few stray pieces of dried cat food. Harry stared around the room for a second, memories flooding back from before his time at Hogwarts. He hadn't been in this house for over twenty years as Arabella had moved as far away from Surrey as she could after the wards at Number 4 had fallen after Harry's seventeenth birthday.

Mr. Paws finished the last of the cat food and stared at Harry yet again. Giving a plaintive "Meow," Harry could only laugh at the look on the cat's face.

"What makes you think I have any food with me? I'm just as hungry as you are."

With a barely audible snort, the cat sauntered into the living room. Harry followed, concentrating on his task to contact Albus Dumbledore and try to figure out what in the hell was going on, even to find out if he was totally insane.

The living room was cluttered. The smell of cats was almost overwhelming, but it was not filthy. A few cat toys littered the worn carpet and a couple of magazines lay on the scratched up coffee table in the middle of the room in front of a worn love-seat. A newspaper was laid out on the seat of a chair by the doorway.

A twitch caught Harry's eye, coming from the chair. Walking up to it, he realized the newspaper was actually the Daily Prophet. Picking it up, Harry read the headline and groaned.

New Minister Shows Confidence in Auror Numbers

_Minister Fudge Claims 'No Need' to Increase Auror Recruitment_

Knowing the story just from the headline, Harry dropped the Prophet carelessly back onto the chair. Of course Fudge was confident in the number of Aurors. He hadn't shown any ability or desire to increase their numbers after multiple appearances from Death Eaters and eventually Voldemort himself, so why would he at this point? It was almost a year before Quirrell would be possessed and five before Fudge would refuse to admit Voldemort himself had returned.

Would have refused. "I think I'll try doing something about it this time around," Harry said to himself. Something about Fudge _and_ Voldemort.

The thought put a smile on Harry's face which was reinforced by the sight of the fireplace as he turned around. He looked around the shelves, searching for a container that would possibly hold floo-powder. There was little actually on the shelves other than a few photographs, most of them muggle. A couple of them seemed to move in the corner of his eye, but when Harry looked directly at them they stilled instantly.

Finally he found a short piece of what seemed to be clay pottery. Opening it, he discovered not floo-powder, but cat treats. Sighing, he started to gently place the lid back on but was distracted by Mr. Paws standing on his hind legs hugging Harry's knee. A small laugh escaped his lips and Harry grabbed a couple of treats out of the clay jar and sat down on the love seat. Mr. Paws jumped into the open seat next to him and looked on expectantly.

Harry placed the cat treats in the palm of his hand and held them out to Mr. Paws. The cat snatched the first one up and smacked on it in a way that strongly reminded Harry of Ron before Hermione had finally taught him to eat with his mouth closed. After the first treat was consumed, Mr. Paws nibbled the second one into his mouth and repeated the action, staring at Harry while he chewed.

Leaning back and closing his eyes, he thought about where Arabella could possibly have hidden the floo-powder. Obviously, she wouldn't leave it out on the off chance that she might have guests. Or if Harry was brought by while the Dursley's did something they felt was too important to have him around. It had to be in the living room, in case of emergency.

While he was contemplating the location of the floo-powder, Mr. Paws had hopped off the couch and strutted over to a small, faux-wood cabinet to the side of the chair where Harry had found the Prophet. A lamp with a tilted shade stood on top of it and Mr. Paws quickly curled into a ball to the left of the door and appeared to fall asleep. Harry alternated his stare between the cat and the cabinet for a moment before he saw Mr. Paws open one eye for a moment before wrapping his tail around his face and seemingly fall into a deep catnap.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

As calmly as he could, trying to not disturb Mr. Paws, Harry stood and padded over to the cabinet. Opening the door without a sound, he found a small jar made of some sort of polished stone. Taking the jar out of the cabinet, he placed it on the coffee table and lifted the lid. A small amount of floo-powder sat inside. There was not enough to cover the bottom, but plenty to make a few trips or floo-calls.

Pinching just enough for a floo-call between his fingers, Harry strode to the fireplace and with a final calming breath tossed it in.

It was time to find out if he was crazy.

"Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!" he stated clearly as the green flames erupted in front of him. When they didn't die down immediately, Harry knew that it had worked and kneeled down and prepared to stick his head into the fire.

Inside the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a light lunch and reading a transfiguration journal. The day was going by slowly, but nothing of any importance had occurred since the week had begun, so he was doing his best to enjoy the summer holiday. Or at least as much of a holiday as the headmaster of Hogwarts could enjoy. The new Minister of Magic had just finished asking him for advice before lunch and Albus was trying to relax after a particularly vexing conversation. The new Minister seemed to enjoy the idea of getting advice from him but not actually putting his advice to use. Fawkes had appeared on his perch just after Fudge had stepped back into the fireplace and with a short song improved his mood enough that he had only sighed and requested one of the house elves bring him a tuna sandwich. On rye.

While he was in the middle of the last bite, his floo-chime dinged and he looked up while putting on his half-moon spectacles. Thinking it was the Minister yet again, Dumbledore quickly swallowed, vanished what remained of his lunch and placed the journal down on his desk. He stood, preparing to welcome Fudge and whatever entourage he had brought back with him, curious as to what advice was needed less than thirty minutes after their previous meeting.

However, no one stepped through the fireplace. The green flames flickered for a few seconds and Albus recognized that this was only a floo-call and not a visit. Walking over to the fireplace so that there would be no need for a shouted conversation, Albus saw a child's head appear and look around frantically before settling his eyes on the Headmaster with a look of relief so profound that it almost made Albus laugh outright. Instead, he controlled himself and settled for a slight grin.

"Hello, my boy. Is there something I can help you with this lovely summer's day?"

"Albus!" the child shouted with joy that would have made the grin on his face expand into a full-blown smile had the voice not been mixed with a sense of distress. That distress turned the grin into a set look of neutrality and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry leaned in closer, searching the face with a growing sense of recognition. And dread.

The child seemed to collect himself. Disbelief began to grip Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus, thank Merlin! I felt like I was going insane all morning. Do you have any idea what exactly is going on?"

The use of his first name from a boy who looked to be seven or eight did not bother him half as much as the knowledge of who the boy might be. And that knowledge, while disturbing, was nowhere near as puzzling as to why the boy himself was using the floo to call him in the middle of the summer. Albus stared behind the boys head and saw a small portion of Arabella Figg's living room, as well as a large cat stretched out on the floor behind the boy in the fire. His pace paled.

Harry looked worried for a minute at the shock written all over his former headmaster's face. After a moment, he smiled a crooked grin.

"You don't seem all that pleased to see me. You do know who I am, don't you, Albus?"

A hand joined the face in the fireplace and reached towards the boy's forehead. Albus watched with fascination as the hand lifted the dark, filthy, matted hair up and exposed a lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Harry Potter?"


	2. Open Up

_So...Disclaimer? I've read so many stories with amazing disclaimers, but I can't think of anything good. Maybe next chapter._

**Open Up**

Harry nodded at his flabbergasted former headmaster.

"Yep. Good to know I'm still me. Would it be alright if I stepped through?"

The only answer Albus could give Harry was a nod as he stepped back and watched the boy's head disappear. The flames died down and the fireplace was once again left empty.

Seconds later the green flames appeared again, and a clearly underfed and unwashed Harry Potter stepped through the fireplace and into Hogwarts for what Albus Dumbledore thought was the first time.

Harry brushed a bit of soot off of his sleeves and onto the floor before looking up into the face of a man he hadn't seen in person for fifteen years. A man he had watched die and fall to the ground, his body broken. Albus was staring at him in shock, one of the few times in his life Harry had seen the man speechless.

Albus Dumbledore was wearing robes that could only be usual for him. Silver material of some sort shimmered around him, catching light and reflecting it almost like a mirror. His hair and beard were as long and as white as they had been the first time Harry had laid eyes on the man in the great hall so many years ago. Both were braided and held together magically. Harry could smell that a meal had recently been eaten, and idly wondered if he had interrupted it.

Staring around the office he had been in so many times, and destroyed once, Harry could hardly accept what his eyes were showing him. The sense of disbelief he had felt since waking that morning intensified and he stumbled to a chair in front of Albus' desk and sank into it.

Albus slowly made his way to his own chair behind the desk, his eyes on Harry all the while. Neither of them had spoken since the floo call had ended, and both seemed content to soak in the oddness of the moment.

Harry opened his eyes and looked up. The first thing he spotted was Fawkes sitting on his perch, staring directly at Harry.

"Fawkes," he whispered, almost to himself. Albus started. Fawkes titled his head and trilled softly, almost questioningly. Harry smiled at him and the bird trilled again before flying from his perch and landing on Harry's shoulder. Both of them stared into each others eyes before Fawkes butted his head against Harry's and trilled again, a bit louder, for several seconds.

When the phoenix ended his song, both Harry and Albus turned away from the bird and toward each other. Harry's anxiety had shifted into something closer to morbid curiosity. Albus was still staring incredulously at the boy and bird sitting in front of him. His jaw was slack and his glasses had almost fallen off his nose. His lips parted but all that came out was something between a grunt and a questioning sigh before they closed back up.

Harry almost smirked, never having seen Albus in such a state of confusion, but remembered after a moment why he was there.

"Albus," he started, "I've had quite the ridiculous morning."

A few seconds passed before Albus collected himself enough to respond.

"Harry Potter?" he asked for the second time in as many minutes.

"Yes, my name is Harry Potter," Harry responded, "but I'm guessing this isn't when you were expecting to see me again?"

So many questions were rushing through Albus' mind, but only one word would allow itself to escape his mouth.

"How?"

"How do I know who you are? How did I floo here? Or how do I know about being a wizard?"

Regaining control of his surprise, Albus closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before looking back at the boy in front of him.

"Yes. I'd like an answer to each of those questions."

Harry paused for a moment before looking at Fawkes once more. The bird sang a note of reassurance and took off back to his perch.

"All I can tell you is what I know."

"No doubt," Albus responded, a hint of humor returning to his demeanor. Clasping his hands together on the desk in front of him, Albus waited expectantly. He was confident this would be an extremely intriguing tale.

"My name is Harry Potter. But I'm not the Harry Potter you left with the Dursley's nine years ago. Last night I went to sleep, but I wasn't at Privet Drive. I wasn't even anywhere near Little Whinging, and I most definitely was not ten years old."

Albus looked down at his hands, contemplating what this could mean. After a moment of thought, he looked up and into Harry's eyes.

"How old were you when you went to sleep yesterday evening, Harry?"

"I was thirty-one years old. And in my mind, I still am. I still have my memories, my knowledge, my skills... I've spent the past several hours trying to figure out exactly what's happened to me, but I can't even begin to explain it. The first person I thought of who might understand and not think I was a total nutter was you, Albus. Thank Merlin you were in your office, or I would be stuck at Arabella's feeding her army of cats."

Harry paused and looked Albus in the eye, half expecting to see disbelief. Instead he saw fear. It was rare he saw fear in the eyes of Albus Dumbledore, and when he had, it usually didn't turn out well.

"Albus, what are you thinking?"

Albus looked back into the eyes of the young boy sitting across from him. The boy was staring back into his eyes with a look of concern, familiarity and something else. He realized Harry was mirroring his fear back at him, and he looked away in shame.

"Do you know the paradox of time travel?"

"Yes I do, but this isn't any kind of time travel I'm familiar with. This had nothing to do with a time-turner or anything else...I fell asleep in my study last night and woke up in the cupboard under the stairs this morning."

"The cupboard?" Albus asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Yes, the Dursley's had me sleep in the cupboard until I got my letter from Hogwarts. After that they moved me to Dudley's spare bedroom upstairs. Things have already changed. If I had traveled back in some way known to us, I wouldn't be ten years old. I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you right now, and I certainly wouldn't have ended up in that damned cupboard!"

Harry had almost shouted the last part, his frustration of the last several hours finally catching up to him. His pre-pubescent voice cracked into a higher pitch as he tried to control his volume and he stared back at Albus, his eyes challenging.

"How do I know you're truly Harry Potter?"

"Beyond the fact that Fawkes just approved of me?" he said it with a slight grin towards the phoenix, who chirped what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Yes, I can see that Fawkes has taken a liking to you, and he is a very good judge of character. Is there any way you can prove to me that you are really Harry Potter?"

Harry mentally berated himself. Of course he needed proof! He thought furiously for a moment. Nothing he could tell Albus would convince him beyond a doubt that he was Harry Potter. He had to come up with proof, but what?

Albus had sat quietly, watching the the boy think through his options. He trusted Harry, and had very little doubt he spoke the truth. However, very little is not the same as no doubt at all.

"The Sorting Hat," Harry spoke suddenly.

"Pardon?"

Harry looked over at The Sorting Hat, which seemed to perk up a bit at hearing its name.

Harry continued, "The Sorting Hat can pass through any type of mental shield."

Albus nodded.

"Harry, I don't know of The Sorting Hat ever participating in a situation such as this," he said.

"I can't think of _anyone_ participating in a situation such as this, can you?"

The two stared at each other for a moment before the silence was broken.

"The boy seems quite insistent," the voice from The Hat startled both of them and caused a quiet squawk from Fawkes. All three of them looked at The Hat, which had opened the tear it used to sing The Sorting Song every year.

Harry quickly turned to Albus again, begging with his eyes as the headmaster quietly appraised the hat.

"It seems that I am outvoted," he stated quietly as he rose silently and gently grasped The Hat by the tip and rim.

"Harry, I do not want you to think that I do not believe your story. It is just too...curious for me to do anything but make certain."

"Don't worry about it. Very little of my life has been normal. If this does confirm the truth for you, I'd like to discuss some things with you, afterward."

"Splendid. I look forward to it," Albus said it pleasantly enough, but right before he dropped The Hat onto the boys head, Harry gave him a look that he had never seen on a child, and it shook him to the core.

"You shouldn't," he said right as the Hat covered his eyes.

_Ah, so you are indeed Harry Potter,_ said The Hat inside his head. _Your tale is true, but whatever has happened to you was caused by magic I have no knowledge of and I can not find anything in your mind that has caused this._

_So it wasn't some sort of device?_ asked Harry.

_Not any device I can find in your memories. You truly have traveled back in time to your ten year old self. _

_What can I do to get home?_

_I do not believe there is anything you can do. The events that have led you here are unprecedented. Your mind is that of a grown man. Someone who has experienced life, love. A family. Sadly, there will be no going back._

Harry almost screamed out-loud at The Hat. Taking a deep breath, he waited for it to respond to Albus and explain that he was truly Harry Potter.

_Well?_

_Yes, Mr. Potter?_ The Hat sounded perplexed and Harry worried it would do nothing to help him. After a moment, it spoke in his mind once again.

_You must realize that time-travel is a difficult thing to understand for many. The time travel paradox has prevented any true abuse of knowledge of the future, as you well know._

_Of course. This is obviously an exception to that rule, as things have already been changed drastically, _Harry argued.

_Indeed, _Harry thought that The Hat must be laughing. _Mr. Potter, anything you remember from your time will not occur in this reality. Friendships and families will change or never form at all. Your life will not exist as what you remember it to be and the people you meet will not become the people you once knew._

_Are you sure there is no way to change this? To send me back to my own time?_ Harry pleaded.

There was no answer in his mind as The Hat spoke out-loud, "This is truly Harry Potter, Headmaster. He has somehow been sent back to his ten year old self using magic I have never seen nor experienced before, for reasons unknown to us all."

Albus lifted The Hat off of Harry's head and placed it back on its shelf. He then stepped back to the chair on Harry's right and sat down slowly, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

The words of The Sorting Hat rang through his head, repeating over and over. _Your life will not exist as what you remember it to be._

"Is that enough to convince you?" Harry asked.

Still sitting in the chair, staring at Harry with a look of concern, Albus Dumbledore saw pain in the eyes of the boy.

"You have a family," he said.

"Had."

"I am truly sorry, Harry." Nothing else was said as the two sat. Harry closed his eyes and remained still, doing his best not to lose his temper or control. Clearing his mind as he had been taught after the war, while finally learning occulmency, Harry slowly calmed himself and tried to think rationally.

He opened his eyes and found Albus was still staring at him, sympathy obvious in his eyes.

"They're all gone," he said, staring at the man next to him. Albus gazed back and said the one word Harry knew he had to hear, but wanted nothing more than to ignore.

"Yes."

"There's nothing we - nothing I can do about this."

"No."

For several minutes nothing was said. Occasionally, Harry would close his eyes or look away. Albus' look never wavered and he stared at the boy in front of him.

Finally, Harry shut his eyes one last time and inhaled sharply. Holding his breath for a moment he exhaled through his teeth and looked up at Albus.

"Things are not going to be the same this time," said Harry.

"I am truly sorry." Albus repeated as he straightened in his chair.

"Don't be," said Harry. "I would have felt something beyond this...this empty feeling of loss. I would have known..." he trailed off.

Albus nodded, "I believe that they will never know anything has changed."

Harry looked at him, the question on his face plain.

Albus continued, "Time travel is a poorly understood subject. A situation such as this is unheard of. But, based on the fact that you are here, as you are, I do not believe you are truly in the same universe that you were last night. Well, last night for you. In your time."

"A different universe?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes. If this were truly the same universe you had left, we would not be sitting here speaking of it."

"Of course!" Harry said as understanding snapped into place.

Albus stood and wandered over to the door behind Fawkes' perch. As it silently slid open for him, Harry continued to sit in the chair, dumbfounded.

They were out there somewhere...safe. Alive.

Albus entered his private library, searching for a book. The lighting was dim as he flicked his hand, taking no notice when the lamps burst brighter, illuminating the entire room. Shelves of books stacked in messy rows greeted him. There seemed to be little order as many books lay open on the ground, pages fluttering as he glided past them. As he reached the back of the library, a short walk in a room little larger than his office, he slowed. Peering closely over the tops of his half-moon glasses, Albus ran his fingers along the spine of several worn books with faded titles.

After a few moments, his eyes alighted upon the tome for which he had been searching. A rather large, extremely faded and frayed book sat on the shelf just at eye level. He grasped it, extracting it from the shelves, and taking it back to his office where he knew a desperate man waited.

As the minutes passed, Harry wondered where Albus had gone. He sat in front of the Headmaster's desk, wavering back and forth between a feeling of understanding and devastation. Working himself into a frenzy of worry and anguish, some of the lighter objects in the room began to rattle. Fawkes, literally feeling his emotions, quickly flew to him and settled at the edge of the desk directly in front of Harry's lowered head.

When his hands began to pull at his hair, Harry's shoulders started to shake with the rest of the office. Albus entered the room and froze. He watched as his familiar tilted his head and observed Harry with what, to Albus at least, seemed to be love.

A soft chirp broke Harry out of his cycle of pain and self-loathing. He looked up to find Fawkes sitting directly in front of him, staring him in the eye. Harry had never seen a phoenix act this way. Fawkes was looking at him, into him. A sense of peace filled Harry. Fawkes chirped again, a bit louder. He sat back in the chair and let him hands fall into his lap as the phoenix continued to stare into his soul. Several seconds passed, then a minute. The rattling had stopped. Everything in the office was unnaturally still. Albus stood quietly, not daring to breath in an attempt to make this moment last as long as possible.

Harry noticed Albus in the doorway but did not look at him, his eyes trapped as Fawkes seemed to be reading his mind and replacing the loneliness with something else. He couldn't identify what he was feeling for several minutes as he looked into the black eyes of the phoenix.

A moment before Albus decided to move towards his chair, Fawkes flew into the air and extended his wings fully. The two wizards stared upward as Fawkes flew in a gentle circle and then began to sing. It began almost inaudibly, but Albus recognized it and based on the slight upturn of Harry's lips, he suspected the younger man was no stranger to the sound. As the speed of Fawkes' flight increased, so did the volume of the song. The warbling joy seemed to shake the room as Harry's misery had earlier, but when he looked around Albus saw nothing was moving. The world was still.

Harry closed his eyes. He was aware of nothing but the joy emanating from Fawkes. Albus watched the smile appear on Harry's face and could not help but smile himself. Slowly moving into his seat, he watched as Harry's face relaxed, followed by the rest of his body. Somehow, most likely magic Albus supposed with a suppressed grin, Harry was not sliding out of the chair. A tear slowly leaked out of the boy's eye and slid down his cheek. The volume of Fawkes' trilling increased until it was to the point that Albus almost had to cover his ears. If someone had been yelling, it was doubtful he would have been able to hear it.

Suddenly, Fawkes landed in the middle of the desk, directly between Albus and Harry. The song did not end, but the volume decreased and Harry opened his eyes. They were sparkling with tears.

Albus was smiling at them both. He knew for certain that the boy, the _man_, in front of him was truly of the light. Regardless of what had happened in the past, Harry would do the right thing, out of love if nothing else.

The song ended and Harry felt a sense of peace so strong he wanted it to last forever.

This must be what heaven is like, he thought, as the bird continued to look into his eyes.

Fawkes seemed to nod, then closed his eyes for a moment, burst into flame, and vanished.

Albus watched as Harry closed his eyes and cried silently. The smile on his face never wavered. After some time, Harry opened his eyes and looked at Albus, his green eyes almost glowing, piercing the last hope Albus had that the boy in front of him was truly a child.

"I saw them," he said. "Ginny and the boys were in the kitchen sitting at the table. They were eating breakfast. Omelets," Harry laughed, "and Ginny was holding Lily, feeding her."

Harry closed his eyes again, reliving the vision Fawkes had shown him. When he spoke again, they stayed shut.

"I saw them all around the table. Smiling, laughing, and then-" he opened his eyes and glanced at Albus before his vision blurred. "And then I saw myself. I was standing at the sink, cleaning the skillet and putting everything back where it belongs. Ginny... She, she smiled at me and said something. I couldn't hear her, but I saw myself laugh, and she smiled back. She was happy. They were _all_ happy," he finished.

After taking a moment to collect himself, he smiled at Albus. The older man looked at him, beaming, eyes glistening.

"I think Fawkes may have resolved your distress much more ably than I, Harry," he said, holding out the book.

_Vicis Eo Minae Magis Universum_

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"It is, simply, a book related to your unique issue."

Harry stared at the tattered cover.

"'Time Travel Paradoxes and Multiple Universes'?" he said.

"Yes. I believe that this book may help you understand some of what has occurred today. Keep in mind that it is all theoretical. I have never heard of anyone experiencing an event such as the one in which we find ourselves currently immersed."

Harry nodded and glanced back down at the cover as he rubbed his face. It was green with white words carved into the cover. Brown cracks radiated throughout and white tufts of binding seemed to be trying to escape.

"Thank you. I have a feeling none of this will matter, though. There's no going back for me. I can only be thankful to Fawkes for allowing me to see my family. For letting me know that they are happy and that part of me is still there to look after them - and to love them."

"Harry, you will always love them."

The two men once again lapsed into silence. After several minutes of watching Harry and thinking, Albus spoke.

"Now, in this time, if there is anything I can do to help you I will be most pleased to do so."

Harry sat in silence, contemplating what had happened to him.

"Albus, there are many things you need to know. Things about me, and what is to come in the near future."

Harry watched the face of his old Headmaster as it changed from delighted to grim instantly.

"Voldemort," said Albus. It wasn't a question.

"Yes. He's not dead, but you already know that."

Albus sighed, "I have my suspicions. May I ask what knowledge you have of the subject?"

"I know the prophecy, to begin with," said Harry. He smiled as the man in front of him aquired a look of guilt.

"Harry-" Albus began, but was interrupted by a dismissive wave of Harry's hand.

"There's nothing to apologize for. Truly. I have dealt with years of guilt and anger at that prophecy. At you. At myself. Do you know what I finally learned? What I finally discovered about this so-called prophecy?"

Albus waited.

"It was Riddle's fault. Everything about it. His fear of death allowed that prophecy to be fulfilled. His determination to cheat death caused the fulfillment. He marked me," Harry revealed his scar, "and I killed him."

Albus' mouth dropped open for a moment and then he closed it so quickly his teeth clicked.

"You defeated him?"

"Yes, I killed Tom Riddle. At the end of what would have been my seventh year there was a battle here. They called it the Battle of Hogwarts. The Wizarding World has never been all that creative."

Harry grimaced, "I was renamed 'The Savior'. I can't say I ever really enjoyed it, though at least it's shorter than 'The-Chosen-One' or 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'."

Albus smiled. He had never liked hyphenated names, himself.

"It seems you have quite a bit of knowledge relating to Tom Riddle."

"You could say that. I also happen to know where his Horcruxes are."

The man in front of him paled. Harry smirked.

"Horcrux_es_? He made more than one?"

"Seven. Well, six at this point, not including the bit of his soul wandering around Albania at the moment."

Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes and concentrated on controlling his emotions. Both of his hands reached out and clasped the edge of the desk so tightly that his knuckles strained white.

All of this took place within seconds before Albus opened his eyes and gazed at Harry with a fierceness that startled the younger man.

"_Six_?" he said incredulously. "Merlin! I would never have-" he broke off and then stared at Harry, who was grinning at him across the desk.

"You know where they are," he said. Harry nodded and grinned even wider, a plan taking shape in his mind.

"Where?" Albus asked.

"Three we can find immediately, three others will be a little tricky-" he stopped, face paling. Albus noticed the boy was no longer grinning and rose, concerned.

"Harry?"

Sweeping around the desk silently, Albus approached the boy and took a seat in the neighboring chair.

"Albus," Harry whispered, "I was wrong. There are four we can find immediately. One of them may be a little bit harder to dispose of than the others, though."

The older man placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and waited for the explanation he knew was coming.

"After we destroyed the other six Horcruxes, I had to go into the Forbidden Forest and face Riddle." Harry paused, seemingly deep in thought before he spoke so suddenly that Albus jerked back a bit.

"Conjur a snake for me, please."

"A snake?" the suddenness of the request baffled him for a moment before he complied. Albus conjured a small garden snake. Harmless and green, the snake wound its way forward for a moment before stilling, seemingly confused as to where it was.

"_Hello_?" Harry hissed, and the snake started and quickly looked at him, its tongue lashing out quickly and repeatedly.

"_You are a speaker?_" The snake asked excitedly as Albus stared wide-eyed at the hissing display in front of him.

Harry turned and asked him to banish the snake. They both sat down heavily in the chairs and Harry turned to him after a moment.

"When Riddle tried to kill me as a baby, he gave me this scar, as you know. But, it isn't just a scar. It's a Horcrux. Because of this piece," Harry spat out the word, "of him in me, I'm a parselmouth. I also experience extreme pain when I'm near him as well as visions when he is feeling emotions. Powerful emotions."

"How did you destroy it previously?"

Harry snorted, "I let him kill me."

All of the control Albus had maintained since Harry Potter had flooed into his office came crashing down.

"WHAT?"

"Albus, I'm going to tell you quite a few shocking things and I need you to stay calm."

Albus looked at him with a great sense of unease. Harry was amused at the fact he had chastised the greatest wizard in the world for losing his composure.

"But first I think I could use a shower and some lunch. I may have eaten last night in my...universe, but my body has been with the Dursley's for the past nine years and something tells me I haven't eaten in awhile."

"Harry-"

Harry cut him off, "This is going to be a long day. We need to go through this information as quickly as possible and then contact some people. I have a plan, and between you and me and a few others I think we can end the second war before it begins, but I need you to trust me. I also need something to eat. Badly."

Albus nodded, reluctantly, and guided Harry into his private quarters. He showed him the bathroom and told him he would send for a house-elf to get him robes.

Soaking in the tub for several minutes, Harry relaxed for the first time that day. He thought of his family and sighed, a few more tears escaping. He cried not for his family, but for himself and what he would always miss. Knowing they were happy and that to them, nothing had changed made him feel better, but he wouldn't be there. Harry would never see his children go to Hogwarts and grow up in the world he and his friends had worked so hard to make better for them.

After washing his hair for the third time and finally feeling somewhat clean, Harry stepped out of the tub and glanced around for a towel and set of robes. With a soft crack a house-elf he didn't recognize appeared holding a bundle bigger than itself.

"Harry Potter, sir! Suzy brings towels and robes! Is there be anything else I can get Harry Potter, sir?"

Harry smiled at the elf after barely catching himself from covering up. He knew that the elf couldn't have cared less that he was naked, so he didn't let it bother him.

"Thank you, Suzy. Just leave them on the edge of the tub there, please."

"Absolutely, Harry Potter! You's a very polite wizard! Suzy help with anything you need."

"Great, thanks Suzy."

The elf popped back out of the bathroom and Harry dried off and changed into the robes she had brought. After he dressed, Harry made his way back to the headmaster's office. He spotted Albus sitting in his chair behind the desk, looking pensive. Knocking lightly on the door frame as he entered, he saw Albus smile and motion to the tray of food sitting across from him in front of Harry's chair. A selection of sandwiches and other snacks sat on the tray, as well as a plate of treacle tart, which caused Harry to grin.

"Welcome back, Harry. Please have a seat and we can discuss things of a less serious nature before we get back to business, as they say," said Albus.

As they sat and Harry ate, he asked Albus about the Ministry, who was present and their positions.

"I know the structure in my time, but many things changed when Kingsley became Minister after the war, so I need to know who is available at the moment."

Albus grinned, "Kingsley? Shacklebolt?" At Harry's nod he continued, "I always knew he was destined for something more than the Aurors. How long did he remain in office?"

"Um...as of last night?" Harry asked.

"Indeed! He was elected to a third term? I always believed that Amelia Bones would be..." he trailed off at the look on Harry's face.

"Madame Bones was likely to be appointed, but she was murdered by Death Eaters before the vote after Fudge was booted," he said.

"Ah, I see."

Harry finished up his lunch and another elf appeared and vanished with the tray. They both sat back in their chairs, Harry drinking a butterbeer and Albus sipping a pumpkin juice.

"Albus," Harry began, and the Headmaster put his drink on the desk hearing the tone in his voice, "The three Horcruxes we will easily be able to locate are items that once belonged to the Founders of Hogwarts."

The look on the older mans face was so absurd that Harry had trouble keeping his laughter to himself. When Albus realized the response he was causing he quickly composed himself and flashed an embarrassed grin.

"The first, and closest, is Ravenclaw's Diadem. It is actually very close. Inside this castle in fact."

"Harry-"

"The Diadem is, by far, the least interesting of the three in our situation."

"Well, I supposed I should not be surprised by anything you have to tell me. You do, after all, have knowledge of the future that I could only dream of...if only to prevent the many mistakes I am sure I will make."

Harry leaned forward and looked the old man directly in the eye.

"We all make mistakes. Every day we do something that we can look back on and say, 'Gee, if only'. But some mistakes that were made in...my universe can be prevented now. The second Horcrux is Slytherin's Locket. It's located in Black Manor at number 12 Grimmauld Place."

"The Black family always was aligned with the dark, that is no surprise to me...but I shall assume there is a twist to this part of the story," he said it with a small smile, but the eagerness in his eyes grabbed at Harry, convincing him not to drag it out. There was no need.

"Regulus Black was a Death Eater, but he renounced them after experiencing the horrors that went along with some of their more...unsavory practices. He removed the Locket when he discovered what it was and meant to destroy it. He was killed before he could accomplish that, though. Sirius Black can allow us entry without any problems, I assure you."

Harry waited for the denial. The statements accusing Sirius of being Riddle's right hand man. The apologies that his Godfather was a mass-murderer. His assumptions were met with silence as Albus waited for him to continue, dread in his eyes.

"Sirius Black is innocent of everything he has been accused of and sits rotting away in Azkaban, sentenced without trial." Harry had trouble controlling the bitterness. His Godfather was a strong man, but he could still remember, from the short time he knew him, the haunted eyes of Sirius and the continuous denial of nightmares.

"Who was your parents secret-keeper?" Albus asked the question gently, but the response was most definitely not.

"Peter Pettigrew!" Harry hissed, "He has been hiding out as the Weasley family's pet rat for the past nine years and has been in this castle with Percy for the past four."

Albus sat back and waved for Harry to continue.

Harry took a calming breath. They would discuss freeing Sirius soon enough.

"The third Horcrux is in Little Hangleton, in the Gaunt...hovel, I suppose would be the best word for it."

"I've suspected as much," said Albus.

"So there you go, three of the six. All of them are simple enough to get to. Although, the ring does have a nasty curse or two attached to it. In fact, in my universe you fell victim to the curse itself."

Albus raised an eyebrow, "Did I?"

"You did. It began in your hand and was delayed long enough for you to share enough information with me so that I could complete the destruction of the Horcruxes."

Harry knew what the next question would be, and knew that it would distract his former Headmaster greatly, perhaps as badly as he himself had been distracted during the hunt for the Horcruxes. Now, with more information, he hoped for the ability to study the Hallows in detail without the threat of Riddle and his own imminent death.

"Why would I put on a ring I must have known to be cursed, Harry? What dark magic could compel me to do such a thing?" Albus was curious. Could Riddle have discovered a compulsion charm so strong that he would not have thought to search for it, or been unable to resist it?

"There was no magic beyond the protections in the house surrounding the ring and the curse on the ring itself. Beyond the Horcrux, it was just a ring...the stone embedded in the ring was something else."

He paused, seeing the curiosity in Albus' eyes and knew that his desire to become the master of the Deathly Hallows would have to be curbed before it could become overwhelming.

"You put the ring on because you wanted to see your family again. You wanted to see Ariana." Harry waited.

"Ariana? But, how is that-" Albus blinked, then closed his mouth. He blinked again and looked at Harry.

"The Resurrection Stone?" he said, barely audible.

"Yes."

Albus closed his eyes, thinking quickly. As he reviewed everything from their conversations since Harry had flooed into the office, he came to the only conclusion he could.

"You are the master of the Hallows."

Harry shook his head immediately.

"No, at least not anymore. I was for a short time. The Stone ended up somewhere in the Forest. Your wand," he pointed to the wand lying on the desk in front of Albus, "I buried with you after I took it from Riddle in the Final Battle."

"And the cloak?"

"The cloak I kept. It does belong to the Potter family, after all," he said it with a slight grin and Albus would have smiled back if he hadn't been so distracted.

After receiving no noticeable reaction, Harry cleared his throat. Albus focused his eyes and they swiveled toward Harry.

"Albus, it won't work."

They looked at each other.

"I believe you," he said, softly.

"Thank you. You tried putting it on and activating it, but all that happened was you lost your hand...and eventually your life."

"The curse eventually took hold?" he asked.

"No. Professor Snape killed you the night we located the original location of the Locket. The cave where Riddle terrorized those children while he was still at the orphanage."

"Severus?"

Harry nodded.

"Why?"

"You asked him to. Made him swear to do it, actually. You both knew you were dying and you felt he would be most valuable as a spy. You were right, as usual."

Harry laughed at this point and shook his head ruefully.

"You once told me your guesses were rather good, and I happen to agree with you. We all make mistakes, and in your position you've made, and will continue to make, many. But you always do what you feel is right. You learn from your mistakes, something I have spent my life trying to emulate."

Albus Dumbledore was shocked. This boy- No. He had to stop looking at him as a boy. This man in front of him knew so many of his secrets. He seemed to know him better than any person alive, except perhaps his brother, and yet he still respected him.

"What do you think we should do?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be shocked. Albus Dumbledore was asking him for advice. The man in front of him was old. There was no twinkle in his eye. His voice was shaky and barely rose above a whisper. Harry knew it was time to act and that he had a chance to make this world, this universe, a better place. He would end the war before it could start. He wouldn't let Riddle ruin any more lives.

Collecting himself, he stood and motioned for Albus to join him.

"Let's go get the Diadem first and then we'll discuss my plan."

"Your plan?" said Albus.

"Well, let's say it's more of a plan for a plan," Harry evaded.

"Ah," Albus replied. "Should I assume that we will discuss the other two Horcruxes afterward?"

"Well, other than this one," he pointed at his forehead, "they will probably be fairly difficult to obtain. We'll need some help. But yes, we'll discuss them after we get the Diadem."

As the two of them began to walk out of the room, Harry stopped at the door and turned around.

"Albus, is there anyone else in the castle?"

"Yes, some of the staff stay over every summer. I believe Professors Sprout and Flitwick are on hand, though they are most likely busy at the moment."

"Do you think it's really a good idea for anyone to see me in the castle right now?" said Harry.

Albus paused, "I suppose you would like to reacquire your family's cloak."

"That would be great. Is it here?" he asked.

"Yes," Albus turned to walk back to his private quarters, "I shall collect it for you."

After he reappeared, Harry covered himself with his invisibility cloak and they walked out the Headmaster's office together. They went up the stairs, passing moving portraits who called out their greetings to the headmaster. As they reached the seventh floor and strolled up to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry grabbed the arm of the older man standing next to him and spoke.

"I'm going to open a door. You'd remember this as a room full of sparkling chamber pots."

"Ah, I do remember that. I have always been curious where that room had gone, but I suppose you are about to enlighten me."

As Harry paced back and forth in front of the wall, Albus watched silently. Suddenly, a door appeared.

"This is the Room of Requirement. If you focus enough on what you need, Hogwarts will provide it."

Harry walked up to the doors and opened them. Holding it for Albus, the two men entered the room full of hidden objects that had been growing for a millennia.


	3. Be Here Now

_Ah, Chapter 3. It's exciting, yes?_

_I just want to thank the folks who left reviews. It's awesome. I understand what the big deal is now. They are certainly encouraging. I feel loved. _

_Also, I have a Beta now. Thank you The Sushi Monster. She is quick, and any mistakes you read are all her fault. Really. :)_

_Ok, disclaimer time...and I still can't think of anything clever. Maybe next time._

_On to the story._

**Be Here Now**

Bill Weasley crashed to the ground. A grunt escaped his lips as he slid several feet before colliding shoulder first with a sand-brick wall.

"Rock! You arse!"

A goblin crouched above him, hands on his knees, smiling a toothy grin at the human in front of him. Bill pushed himself up with his left arm and slowly stood, holding his right shoulder. He was covered in dust. His normally red hair was full of debris, various pieces of yellow and black stone caught in it.

"William, do you require assistance?" said Rockspear.

"Yep. Shoulder got a bit banged up when you decided to fling me across the entire bloody tomb."

They stood in a dimly lit chamber large enough to hold The Burrow. Each of the three walls slanted slightly inward the higher they went. The faded impression of a face that reminded Bill of a bald Albus Dumbledore, with the accompanying beard, looked down on them from a small, level triangle almost fifty feet above.

Rockspear raised his hands towards Bill's arm and extended his pointy fingers towards the redhead's shoulder.

"You must keep still," said the goblin. Bill was turning his head back and forth, searching the various passageways surrounding them for any sign of flickering air that would indicate active wards.

A few moments and several murmured spells later, Rockspear had finished. Bill rotated both arms in a circle, almost hitting the goblin in the face.

"William, if you _accidentally_ hit me in the mouth, I believe it would injure you much more severely than it would me."

Bill grinned as he looked down. Rockspear showed his teeth again and walked back towards the passageway they had just hastily vacated. Shaking his head, Bill re-holstered his wand and took several long steps forward until he had matched pace with the goblin.

"So, about tossing me into the wall..." Bill began.

"You were about to trigger a ward," said Rockspear tranquilly .

"Where?" Bill looked forward, squinting his eyes. Seeing nothing, he produced his wand from his wrist holster. Before he was able to wrap his fingers completely around it, Rockspear placed a long, bony hand on his arm and pulled it down.

"A better question than, 'Where?' would have been, 'What type of ward?' Do you agree?"

Bill flushed. "What type of ward is it, Rock?"

Releasing his arm, Rockspear slowly moved toward the entrance to the dark passageway. He crouched and seemed to be examining the floor of the tomb before he rose and gazed along the entire entranceway.

Bill stood back quietly, his wand pointing to the stone floor, as he watched the goblin work. Rockspear turned and regarded the redhead for a moment before waving him over.

"Do you see the glyphs?" said Rockspear.

Bill looked at the floor for a moment and, seeing nothing, imitated the goblin's search of a moment ago.

"Where?"

"Look again, closely," Rockspear responded.

Holding in a sigh, Bill continued to stare around the entranceway. Still unable to find the hieroglyphs he was supposed to be searching for, he prepared to give up and ask for the goblin to show him what exactly he was talking about. Again.

"Rock, I-" suddenly his eyes settled on a barely visible set of scratches several feet inside the passageway, partially covered by shadows.

"There! A few feet down on the wall, just above the floor."

"Excellent, William," the goblin spoke in a slightly pleased manner, "I see you remember the _Amahte Kamenwati_ lesson well."

"Yeah," Bill agreed "I'd say it's pretty well _burned_into my mind at this point..." his voice lowered, "along with a few other parts of me."

Rockspear's mouth twitched, but he did not smile. Bill watched as his diminutive partner began muttering incantations and took a mental note of the differences between the spells he was hearing now and the ones from several weeks ago.

Within a minute, Bill's hair stood up on end and he heard a small thump so quick that he wouldn't have noticed it had he not been listening. Rockspear began walking forward without a backwards glance and Bill followed without hesitation.

Several hours later, Bill sat in a large tent outside the tomb. It was tolerable thanks to some cooling charms, but every time someone walked in or out, the hot Saharan air would come wafting in, reminding Bill why he was so thankful for magic.

His friend Geoff was still laughing and snorting into his glass of firewhiskey.

"So, let me understand this..."

"I think you understand fine, Geoff," said Bill.

"Help me out here. So you walk into the chamber and..."

Bill sighed. "And Rock told me to cast a detection spell..."

"And you actually did it? Why would you listen to that crazed goblin, mate? He lives to torture you."

"He calls it teaching."

"So, then what?" Geoff put down his drink and looked at Bill expectantly.

"Well, I cast the charm. Never even noticed Rock sneaking his way back into the passage."

"Course not. You were probably so shocked that he let you take the lead on this one that you didn't notice a lot of things."

"No doubt. So I cast the charm."

Geoff snorted loudly. Bill glared at him and continued. "And four mummies burst out of their cozy little houses and start running at me. I nearly pissed myself."

At this point Geoff burst out laughing, drawing looks from the others in the tent. Taking a moment to collect himself, he waved for Bill to go on.

"I put up a quick shield, but you know how strong those things are," Geoff nodded and picked his glass back up, taking a sip. Bill did the same.

"After a minute, I tried stunning one of them."

"Didn't work, eh?"

"No. No, it didn't. So I start trying to blast them, but I had to be careful," said Bill.

"Right. Don't want to destroy the entire place and have it come crashing down on your head. First rule of tomb raiding. Destroying the tomb is bad."

"And so my shield starts to flicker and the mummies are just running into it again and again," Bill continued. "I started to look for Rock, then just flew through the air towards the passage. I landed right on my arse in front of him, and he had the biggest damn grin I've ever seen on a goblin. Just stood there and grinned for the longest time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So I just sat there for a minute, looking up at those giant teeth and he starts to _laugh_."

Geoff looked shocked for a moment, then finished his drink and dropped the glass down on the table with a thud. His expression quickly changed to an emotion Bill couldn't identify, but it seemed positive.

"He laughed at you, huh?" said Geoff.

"Yeah, at least I think he was laughing. Sounded kinda like a dragon barking."

A voice from behind him almost caused Bill to spill his drink.

"Dragons do not bark, William."

Bill turned to look into the face of their current topic of discussion. Turning back to his friend, he gave him a beseeching look. "You could've said something," he said.

Geoff chortled. "I could have."

"And yet you didn't."

"Didn't feel like it, honestly. The look on your face is priceless, you know?" Geoff was still laughing when Bill turned to look at his partner.

"I agree, William. The human mouth has the ability to express emotions much more varied than my own. It is most amusing." The grin on his face was the same as always, but the goblin's eyes seemed to indicate a smug smirk.

"So glad I can amuse you. And thanks again for the _lesson_ today. I'm glad that I had something to distract Geoff with. He seems to enjoy hearing about our little adventures."

Rockspear nodded once and walked around Bill's chair to sit in the third empty seat. Sitting as stiff and straight as one of the sarcophagi they had been searching for, Rockspear's face was the only indication he had relaxed at all.

"William, a letter arrived for you while we were inside the tomb. I believe it is quite urgent."

"Someone sent an owl halfway across the desert?" said Geoff.

"No, Geoffrey. In fact, it was sent using a phoenix." Even the goblin sounded somewhat impressed and gazed toward Bill expectantly.

"I don't know anyone with a phoenix...do I?" Bill looked between Geoff and Rockspear, neither of whom seemed to be able to answer the question.

Rockspear pulled a shrunken envelope out of his pocket. It enlarged quickly as it moved toward Bill's hand and, by the time he had a hold of it, was at full size. He turned it over in his hands and recognized the seal immediately.

"It's from Hogwarts. I've heard that Dumbledore has a phoenix. It must be from him."

"Well, open it, man! It's not every day you get a letter from a phoenix," Geoff shouted, but lowered his voice before the entire camp became aware of the unusual circumstances behind the letter.

"I don't think the phoenix wrote the letter, Geoff."

The idea that his former headmaster was contacting him rattled Bill a bit. Thoughts of his family broke through first, but he realized that it was the middle of summer and none of his brothers would be at school. That only left him more confused. Opening the envelope, Bill read the letter. Geoff and Rockspear watched the tension leave his face to be replaced by puzzlement.

"What's it say, mate?"

"Um..." Bill read the letter again. It was quite short. Only three short sentences, in fact.

_Mr. Weasley,_

_I request your presence at Hogwarts this Saturday, 4 August, at 2 p.m. I have come upon an interesting situation for which you are well suited to help me resolve. I beg of you to share the contents of this letter only with those you absolutely must._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

With Rockspear in charge of his schedule, Bill realized the goblin had to know about this and showed him the letter. He let him read it over for a minute before asking a necessary question.

"This Sunday?" Bill asked.

"That will be difficult. It is several days to the main camp," Rockspear stood and returned the letter.

"What's the date anyway?" said Geoff.

Bill had no idea what day it was either. He was fairly sure it was sometime in July, but it could be the beginning of August. The concept of keeping track of the date had been discontinued within weeks of arriving in northern Africa almost a year ago. With the monotonous sun, sand, heat and look-alike tombs, Bill had adjusted his schedule to whatever Rock had planned for the coming week.

"Is it still July?" he asked Rockspear.

The goblin looked at his partner and student. He was at the same level as Bill at the moment, standing while the redhead hunched over the letter he was holding.

"It's the 31st," Rockspear patted Bill on the head, who responded with a distracted swat that connected with nothing but air.

"How long do you think it would take us to get to the main camp?"

"I believe it should take no more than forty-eight hours. Assuming the weather stays consistent."

Geoff scoffed, "Consistent? It's bloody hot and sunny every day! Scorching! You two'll be fine. Where you going, anyway?"

Bill groaned. Geoff was a great guy, usually, but he reminded him strongly of his youngest brother who had the bad habit of tempting fate with his overly-obvious observations. Glancing at Rock, he realized that the goblin had probably spent too much time around humans. Normally not a superstitious race, he caught the goblin wince almost imperceptibly before regaining his normally placid expression. Placid for a tomb raiding, curse-breaking, ward busting goblin, at least.

"What? What'd I say?" Geoff looked between the two of them for a moment before smacking himself on the forehead and apologizing.

Bill stood. "Right. Well, I'll go pack and come see you two before I head out. Hopefully," he eyed Geoff for a moment, "there won't be a sandstorm or any other complications."

"William, I will be accompanying you. Please allow me an hour to prepare and speak with Stonenick before we depart."

The idea of traveling with Rock was unsettling. He liked the goblin, respected him greatly and trusted him completely. But...well, he loved to play pranks. Bill would have dismissed the idea of a goblin playing pranks and making jokes a year ago. Experience, and embarrassing photographic evidence, had convinced him that it was never wise to underestimate the cunning of the goblin race. Especially Rock, who had spent the better part of the past forty years exploring lost tombs and initiating curse breakers. The repetitiveness of the job that Bill had come to know since he had arrived in Egypt had been broken only by the occasional unopened tomb and Rock's 'tests'.

Fifty-nine minutes later the two of them had procured a flying carpet and were loading up their limited possessions and some supplies. With their location changing on a weekly basis, it was pointless to bring many personal items. Gringotts supplied food and tents as well as various support staff, so Bill's pack was fairly light and contained only his clothes, a small photo album, some relics deemed not worthy of retaining by the goblins that he was planning on gifting to his family, and a limited first aid kit.

As they levitated off the rocky ground their camp was situated on, Bill marveled again at the smoothness of a magic carpet. It was only his second trip on one, but he vividly remembered his first flight when he had arrived in Egypt. There was no sense of acceleration like riding a broom. No wind or sand could be felt thanks to a minor shielding charm that had been added by the goblins. Its maximum speed was limited, as was its ceiling, but the comfort level compared to other modes of magical flight was far superior. One could lie down and sleep if the length of the journey warranted, which Bill planned on taking full advantage of at the moment.

Covering his face with his robes, Bill laid down. He reflected that it would have been much faster to disapparate had the entire area not been saturated by ancient Egyptian wards preventing most types of magical transport, which also included portkeys. Even house-elves were unable to travel within the zone, other than the manner in which he and Rock were at the moment. Phoenixes, he thought, were obviously not constrained by the same rules of magic.

Several hours passed with Bill in a dozing state, occasionally waking enough to spot clouds on the horizon, outcroppings of rocks or the occasional oasis. Once he looked over the edge of the carpet and saw a group of tents that seemed to melt into the ground below whenever he looked directly at them. Assuming it was a group of nomadic wizards, he began to ask Rock about them when he turned and saw the goblin with his eyes closed, sitting rigidly upright, seemingly asleep.

Closing his own eyes, Bill drifted off for several hours before he was awoken by a gentle shaking. He looked into the grim face of his companion and sat up with his arms bracing him into a sitting position.

"What's going on?"

"There is a sandstorm approaching," Rock waved his boney hand behind them. Bill turned his head and saw a perfectly clear night sky. Millions of tiny pinpricks of light and a silver half moon made the desert below them shimmer. The sand dunes rose and fell, like a still ocean under the ancient glow. The beauty made his heart ache.

Flying so low, he could see wisps of sand blowing underneath them, flowing along in the same direction as the carpet. The sand moved at about half their speed. This caused Bill to feel slightly disorientated when they passed over solid earth, as if they had suddenly sped up. He focused on the horizon behind them and saw the desert floor vanish into darkness a bit nearer to them than it did in other directions.

"So, what do we do?" he asked Rock.

"We should continue on as long as possible before the storm can overtake us, and then seek shelter."

"How long do these things usually last?"

Rock was muttering under his breath as he waved his hands over various parts of the carpet. Bill felt nothing to indicate that they were going any faster, but when the carpet slowly angled towards the ground, he decided that Rock must have increased their speed a bit. This did not lessen his anxiety about the storm that had rapidly grown to consume a more noticeable portion of the sky. The moon was starting to look a bit hazy.

"Rock, do you-"

"William, there is no way to tell," the goblin interrupted. "Often they will last a few hours. Sometimes a week or longer. We can only hope that this will be one of the shorter storms if you wish to make it to your meeting."

Bill sighed. The two of them sat silently for what seemed like quite awhile. Rock had ceased his attempts to increase the speed of the carpet and asked Bill to assist him in finding a suitable landing spot, just in case they saw something that might help them ride out the storm before it reached them.

They had both taken to glancing behind them, waiting for the storm to finally catch up to the slow moving carpet. About a third of the sky had been blotted out, and the moon was no longer visible at all, making it difficult to search for a safe landing spot. Bill looked at his watch and saw only twenty minutes had passed since Rock had first alerted him to the problem.

"Is there anything we can do to ride out the storm?" Bill asked.

"No, William. The flying carpet is a very useful and powerful magical object, but they are not meant to take the strain of a full powered sand storm. Storms like that," he pointed behind them with his boney thumb, which was longer than any finger on Bill's hands, "can rearrange the sand dunes they come into contact with so that they are unrecognizable. Why do you think so many of the tombs and ancient temples we work in are covered by hundreds of feet of desert?"

Bill mumbled an unintelligible reply before he shouted.

"Hey!"

He pointed down and ahead of them. As Rockspear looked over the edge of the, now low-flying, magic carpet he spotted an outcropping of rocks and what looked like some small boulders.

"Excellent! That should make a wonderful shelter. We may survive the night."

"That's great," said Bill, "Do you think it'll protect us from the storm?"

Rock grinned, teeth glittering, "We may survive the night, William. Let us not think too far ahead."

As the carpet swung down to the right, Bill cursed. "This is all your fault, Geoff! You twit..."

* * *

In a building on the edge of Manchester's city center, a man sat at a desk in the only room of a very small flat. The room itself was just big enough for a single bed, a desk, the chair the man was sitting in, and a hot-plate where he brewed his tea. A tiny closet was built into the wall, inaccessible if the front door was open. White walls, fading to beige, merged into a cracked ceiling. 

Occasionally, bits of the ceiling would fall onto Remus Lupin as he slept. This often occurred on the weekends, when the young couple that lived above him wasn't working. They were both teachers and had decided to save money after their wedding, so they moved into the tiny but cheap flat. The way the ceiling was flaking recently, they would need that money soon enough for the baby that would surely be on its way, Remus mused, grinning.

There hadn't been much for him to smile about for quite awhile now, he thought grimly. For almost nine years now, the only friends he had were either dead or in Azkaban. Certainly he had his share of muggle friends. It was really the only option as he had spent most of his time living in the muggle world, working temporary jobs he had little to no interest in, since that nightmarish Halloween.

His ability to keep friends was severely hindered by the fact that he had been unable to retain a job for longer than a few months at a time thanks to his 'furry little problem'. Calling in sick for three or four days each month was not a good strategy for holding a job, and he was always either too tired, too irritable or in too much pain to make it to work. He always blamed it on a sickness, but the types of jobs he was able to get without references or a muggle education were always easily filled. He was expendable.

Sickness. Well, it was a curse more than a sickness, but the result was the same whichever way you looked at it. Remus recalled a job he'd had several years ago at a low budget eatery which had not required much effort. He would take the order, write it out, hand it to one of the cooks, then turn back to his customer, give them the total cost and take their money. It was a simple job that he could do in his sleep. He had been able to make it to work everyday but the day after the full moon. Thanks to shift-switching, he had even been able to get most full moons off and had kept the job for almost four months.

It had ended spectacularly one day when one of the busboys had started sharing his opinions on some of the customers the day before the full moon. This was not unheard of from most of the staff, but that day a group of young girls on their way to school had drawn the man's attention. After hearing him make a few lewd comments about the attractiveness or potential skills of the pre-teen girls, Remus had politely urged him to not speak. His request had been ignored.

After an extremely offensive comment, Remus had heard enough and broken the man's arm. In five different places. The manager had come out screaming like a banshee and fired him on the spot. After he had handed over his apron to the manager the pervert he had disciplined laughed through gritted teeth and commented on his violent reaction.

"Don't like girls, eh queer? What's wrong with having a little fun? You know what they say about the young ones-"

His next comment had been cut off by his own scream as Remus pulled his arm out of socket, and in the process insured the breaks would never heal properly. The last thing he had seen was the man doubled over in pain, vomiting bile after Remus had given him a werewolf enhanced kick to the groin, attempting to make sure he never attempted to enact his rambling fantasies about the school girls.

After that incident he had been unable to find a job that suited his temperament so close to the full moon. This made it much more difficult to find steady work and he had spent the past few years wandering from city to city, working odd jobs and attempting to make ends meet.

When he finally arrived in Manchester the year before, he had found this flat and managed to hold onto it. The rent was cheap and the neighborhood was as nice as could be expected. For the past six months he had been working at a used bookstore, and it was the best job he could have hoped for since leaving the magical world.

His tasks were simple. Remus was in charge of shipping and receiving used books between several different bookstores that shared stock. He would sign for the boxes of books that his store received and then stock the shelves. Occasionally, he would sort through books that customers would sell or exchange at his store and send requested copies to their sister stores. It was an easy job, made easier by the fact that this particular store wasn't exceptionally busy most of the time. Remus also had the pleasure of taking home unwanted books that they would normally send to charity or recycling plants.

Because of this, the small amount of wall space he had available was covered floor to ceiling in books. Most of them were of the textbook variety, especially university texts as the term had just ended the previous month. In the past several weeks, Remus had become an expert on post-colonial African history, which for some reason was extremely popular in his particular store.

The rest of his one room flat was simple and extremely functional. The small wooden desk sat next to his small single bed. A small dresser rested against the wall on the opposite side of his bed. Sitting in his (small) chair, Remus waited for his tea water to reach boiling. He had a couple of hours to relax with one of the few novels he had purchased, thanks to his employee discount, before going into work at two o'clock. As the kettle finally whistled to indicate he could enjoy his tea, he sank into the chair and crossed his legs.

Remus looked forward to this particular job. It had three main points in its favor, three things that made it a job he truly enjoyed more than any other.

The first was, of course, the books. The idea of working in a bookstore had appealed to him since before he had graduated Hogwarts. Spending all day reading, even if it was only a few words at a time on a subject he had no interest in, was almost pure bliss as far as he was concerned. The fact that he had little to occupy his time beyond work and reading made the idea of free and discounted books that much more appealing.

The second point was the limited requirements of the job itself. Remus was rarely asked to interact with customers. His job was to take care of the books, not to sell them, and he was able to wander into the stock room during the rare event that the staff was overwhelmed with customers. This low stress environment allowed him to get by with going into work while only missing the day after his transformation. The short temper and pale, sickly appearance were easily brushed off as one unfortunate malady after another from a migraine to allergies. The store was not busy enough to begrudge him the occasional sick day. As luck would have it several of the full moons had occurred on one of his pre-scheduled days off, and no one was the wiser.

The third and most interesting, to Remus at least, was Sarah. She was one of the sorters, and occasionally assisted customers in finding a title. Remus rarely spoke to her outside of the occasional request to recommend something when someone had dropped off a large selection that she was sorting through. She was quite beautiful. Short, with spiky red hair and pale white skin that seemed at home in any library or bookstore. He only saw her on the weekends and knew from one of their brief conversations that she was still attending university. He rarely became enamored with women and had learned long ago that the chance of meeting someone who would look past his problems was extremely unlikely. However, no one had said he couldn't dream, and so he watched her from afar, admiringly and without agenda.

After reading for another hour, Remus walked down the dimly lit hallway of his building and showered in the floor bathroom before returning to his flat and dressing for work. At about half past one, he opened the door to his small closet and looked for an appropriate shirt. At that moment, a sound that reminded him of the muted pop of a gas stove top igniting caused him to turn his head away from the closet. He watched as a single red feather floated over his desk. It swayed back and forth, following the minor air currents underneath it, until it landed on an envelope that had not been there when he had begun getting dressed.

The two steps he took toward his desk covered the length of the room and he was immediately looking down on a familiar parchment style envelope which, he could tell from the seal, was from Hogwarts. He glanced at the feather, saw the gold tip and brilliant red color and realized that it was from a phoenix. Being that he only knew one wizard at Hogwarts who had a phoenix, Remus picked up the envelope and resisted tearing into it immediately. His interaction with the wizarding world was so limited and infrequent that he chose to cherish the rare moment, hoping that whatever was contained in the letter he was about to read wouldn't be something unpleasant.

He carefully opened it and unfolded the parchment letter inside.

_Remus,_

_I request your presence at Hogwarts this Saturday, 4 August, at 2 p.m. I have come upon an interesting situation for which you are well suited to help me resolve. I beg of you to share the contents of this letter with no one._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Well. That was odd. He hadn't received any correspondence from Albus since it had been made abundantly clear that however he felt about it, Remus would not be taking care of little Harry Potter. Remus had tried talking him out of placing the baby with the Dursley's, but Albus had insisted that he would be safest there. After explaining the blood protections a bit, Remus had grudgingly agreed that it would be difficult to break the wards, but argued that Lily's sister was not a fan of magic.

They had agreed to disagree and after the final link to his friends, his family, had been severed, Remus distanced himself from the world in which he had been raised. A place that had no interest in a werewolf participating in the daily life of the Wizarding World.

He read the letter several times, memorizing it, then folded it and placed it back in the envelope. Today was Thursday, so he had to find someone to take his shift that weekend or he would lose the only job he had actually enjoyed for years. Remus finished dressing and, with a look towards the envelope on his desk, walked out of the flat on his way to work.

* * *

Inside the office of the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a heated argument was taking place. On one side of the argument was the new Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and his newly appointed undersecretary, Delores Umbridge. On the other side was...the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, at the moment there were only five people in the office. The room wasn't large enough to hold more comfortably, and if there was anything Cornelius Fudge detested, it was being uncomfortable. 

Senior Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nadia Chalmers stood behind Amelia Bones, the Director of the DMLE, who sat at her desk. She was doing her best not to sneer at the two people in front of her. Fudge was certainly the most inept Minister she had come to know in her almost forty years working in the Ministry and the woman sitting next to him was horrifying. She wore a pink outfit of some sort, which would have been appropriate on Amelia's ten year old niece, Susan. Five years ago.

Resisting the urge to look over her shoulder at the Aurors and roll her eyes, Amelia kept her focus on the man who was, technically, her superior. She did her best not to allow Dolores Umbridge into her sight, but the colors she wore were like a grotesque accident, impossible to look away from. Amelia decided on one last attempt to convince the Minister before their meeting was over.

"Cornelius," she began, only to be interrupted by Umbridge clearing her throat.

Amelia looked at her blankly before continuing.

"Cornelius-"

"Minister Fudge, please," simpered Umbridge.

Amelia gritted her teeth and attempted to remain calm.

She glanced at the woman and gave her a wan smile. As her eyes shifted back to Cornelius, she saw he was alternating between looking uncomfortable and pleased with the lackey to his left. Amelia sighed. "Minister," she continued too quickly for Umbridge to interfere, "I believe you should reconsider the department's budget request. The idea of no increase in funding is absurd. What of the Aurors? New equipment? Even the DRCMC has received a significant increase. The Aurors are responsible for the protection of witches and wizards throughout Britain. Don't you believe they should have the best the ministry can provide?"

"You disagree that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures deserves funding?" said Umbridge.

"Excuse me?"

"The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It's an extremely useful department. Think of all the dangerous and out of control beasts that are lurking, waiting for a human to pass by so that they can maul or even kill them!" Umbridge seemed deranged, her voice and excitement rising towards the end of her unnecessary explanation.

Amelia paused for a moment to collect herself. The fact that Fudge was nodding along in agreement made her seriously doubt the sanity of the two people across from her.

"Minister," she decided to pretend the offensive pink woman was not in the room, "when the DRCMC is informed of an emergency, they notify the Aurors. The Aurors respond to all emergencies that threaten any magical person. I truly believe that it would be in the best interests of the Ministry and magical Britain to increase funding for our department. At least an increase equal that of any other department. Don't you agree?"

Fudge looked startled that someone was asking his opinion on a matter of governance. It did not bode well for the future. He stared at her for a moment, mouth open as if he wanted to say something before turning to Umbridge and questioning her with his eyes. Amelia closed her own for a moment, just a bit longer than a blink, and waited for a response. Instead, the grating voice of Umbridge was the only answer she received.

"Director Bones, I'm sure you understand that with this increased funding, the the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures will be able to respond more quickly and efficiently than it has in the past. With these improvements, the Aurors will no longer be stretched quite so thin, making your job much easier. The Ministry would hate to challenge your department so much that it would negatively affect the performance of your Aurors."

During her rambling, Amelia refused to look away from Fudge, making him squirm. A few more minutes of this argument eventually left Amelia in a state of near enragement, and by the time the two imbeciles left her office her jaw throbbed from clenching.

She watched the door close behind her and listened as the most irritating voice she had ever heard quieted the further it traveled from her office. She put her head in her hands, elbows propped up on her desk, and raised a single finger to motion the Aurors in front of her.

"So," she began without raising her head, "we have six more years of this, right?"

She already knew what the reactions of her subordinates would be. Nadia would be irritated, and rightfully so. Kingsley would have a sympathetic grimace on his face while doing his best not to laugh at his boss' frustration.

"That woman thinks the the DRCMC is going to actually go out there and deal with anything? This is just more pocket money for Macnair and his cronies," growled Nadia.

"Director, I must agree," said Kingsley soothingly. "The evidence that Minister Fudge is taking bribes from former supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is growing."

"By the way, did either of you find it odd that she kept saying the full name of the DRCMC. I know she's a bit...off, but honestly, no one in the Ministry uses its full name. She's freakish. Also seems to hate non-humans _more_than Macnair. And all that pink..."

Amelia's face rose out of her hands and she sat back, looking at Nadia. "While I can't disagree with you on the woman's appearance, she has power now that Cornelius is Minister. We should not forget that. So, let's try and keep our opinions to ourselves, or at least in this office." She finished with a slight grin, allowing both Aurors to relax.

After a frustrating hour of debate on how to allocate what few funds the DMLE had at its disposal, Kingsley and Nadia left her office to finish some paperwork. Amelia settled in to complete her own.

She had thrown herself into her work after the death of her husband, Harper, during the first war against Voldemort. Amelia had no trouble thinking or saying the name. It didn't terrify her like it did most of the wizarding world. She was in the latter half of her fifties and, except for her niece Susan and her parents, had few people connected with her personal life. During the months immediately following Voldemort's demise almost nine years ago, she had quickly been promoted from Senior Auror to the leader of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. Less than six months later, her former superior, Bartemius Crouch, had been demoted and she had taken his place.

In the years since, she had proceeded to watch over a dozen men and women who she strongly suspected of being Death Eaters walk freely out of the Wizengamot. It disgusted her. She had protested mightily, produced evidence that would have condemned Albus Dumbledore (had the evidence applied to him) but it was no use. Galleons, apparently, were the best defense possible. Much better than the truth, which the former Death Eaters were unwilling to share, not that there was much incentive to do so from the Wizengamot.

Thankfully, Amelia thought to herself, it was the end of the week. The summer session of the Wizengamot had finally ended and she decided that she would take the rest of the afternoon off since it was Friday. Meeting with Cornelius when he had been a junior minister in The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes had been difficult enough. He had always been frustrating, but now that he was the Minister of Magic (A magical catastrophe, indeed) he almost gave Amelia a fit whenever she had to speak with him. All she wanted now was an afternoon to herself. Somewhere that was Fudge-free.

And Umbridge-free. Merlin, how she detested that toad of a woman. Her sickly sweet voice, her hideously flabby face. The chills that trickled down Amelia's spine whenever the woman spoke reminded her vaguely of the rare and unfortunate occasions when she had visited Azkaban. The woman was a pink dementor in disguise. She had to be.

Laughing darkly to herself, Amelia finished organizing what little paperwork she had left, deciding to finish it tomorrow afternoon, as much as she hated coming to work on Saturdays. She was supposed to have at least one day off per week, but the reality of the latest budget cut necessitated her presence until they had straightened everything out. With a flick of her wand, the room darkened. She made her way out of The Director's office, past her assistant and down the corridor of the second level of the Ministry.

Amelia took the lift to the atrium, ducking several memos as the doors opened on various levels. When she exited, the sight of the cavernous room brimming over with various witches and wizards barely registered. Stepping up to an empty fireplace and grabbing a handful of floo-powder, Amelia stated her destination, "Bones Residence".

When the spinning ended, she smoothly stepped into her own living room and placed her wand on an end table before falling backward onto the black leather couch her sister-in-law had convinced her to buy from a muggle family having something called a 'yard sale'. Amelia shook her head tiredly. She thought again about the idiocy of Cornelius and had to concentrate so as to not pull a muscle in her jaw. What was it that drew imbeciles to powerful positions? And how did they always manage to succeed in reaching such positions? It truly baffled her. The only rationalization she had for the way Cornelius was behaving was bribery or the imperious curse.

"Or he could just be dumb as a flobberworm," she said to herself out loud, then giggled like a schoolgirl her niece's age.

Several minutes, and not a few deep breaths, later, Amelia gathered herself and meandered into the study to put away some records. The smell of books and parchment enveloped her as she sat down in her chair and began placing files into her desk drawers. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the calm that she felt whenever she spent time in the room. But when her eyes spotted the letter sitting at the edge of the desk, a red phoenix feather resting atop it, Amelia sputtered and coughed, choking on her own breath.

Picking it up, she rotated it and saw the Hogwarts seal glittering in the flame lit glow of her study. The feather she placed gently placed in one of the open books sitting in front of her. It was rare for Albus to use Fawkes to deliver post, something she hadn't seen since the war. It was extremely difficult to obtain phoenix feathers, and they were quite valuable, not that she would ever try to sell it. It would make a spectacular bookmark, she decided.

Turning to the letter, she pulled out her silver opener and broke the seal. She methodically unfolded the parchment and set it down on the desk.

_Director Bones,_

_I request your presence at Hogwarts this Saturday, 4 August, at 2 p.m. I have come upon an interesting situation for which you are well suited to help me resolve. I beg of you to share the contents of this letter with as few people as possible, only those you would trust with your life. It is imperative that no one else in the Ministry is aware of the situation._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Amelia reviewed the letter several times. Obviously, this was not something related to the Ministry. Even if he had evidence of massive corruption within the Ministry, he would have stopped by her office and spoken with her. That he was being so secretive as to warn her to share the letter only with people she trusted with her life made her nervous. Nervousness was not something Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, often felt. She did not enjoy it.

Mentally reviewing her tentative schedule for tomorrow, she decided to go in a bit earlier than she had planned so that ducking out after lunch wouldn't be noticed by many. Thankfully, being a department head allowed her a certain amount of leeway so there was no doubt she could make the meeting with a minimum of fuss.

There was no request for a response in the letter. Albus was confident enough in his knowledge of her curious nature that he assumed she would be there. With guesses ranging from outrageous to bizarre fluttering through her mind, Amelia Bones summoned her lone house elf and asked him to prepare dinner. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Missing Pieces

_Ah, good ol' chapter 4. Disclaimer. It's all mine. I own Harry Potter. And I own Warner Bros. And of course, I own the sun. Also known as the evil day star. It's hot. Yes, you heard it here first...the sun is hot. Very hot. Warm, in fact._

**  
**

**Missing Pieces**

Albus Dumbledore knew the young boy in front of him was not truly ten years old. He was quite aware that the boy was, in fact, a thirty one year old man. Albus also knew that as soon as Harry Potter had looked at himself in the mirror, he began to act like the child he appeared to be.

"I do not believe anyone will recognize you, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes dramatically and turned to Albus, hands on his hips.

"No, they won't. They sure as hell will not recognize the 'Boy-Who-Lived' dressed as a little girl. And just so you know, I never cared for pink. In fact, I bloody hate pink."

Albus smiled. Harry sighed heavily.

"You're enjoying this."

"It was you who proposed a disguise. I believe it was also your suggestion to dress as a young girl."

"I was joking. You know, a joke? Something you say when you're not serious? Trying to be funny?"

"Would you like me to change you back into your robes?" said Albus, still smiling.

Harry calmed and nodded once. A small flick of Albus' wand later, and he was back in his borrowed Hogwarts robes. They'd decided there was no need for anyone, except the three people they were bringing to Hogwarts that afternoon, to know Harry was 'back' in the wizarding world. The two had just finished breakfast in the headmaster's office while discussing different means to disguise Harry. They had finally agreed on a combination of muggle make-up and some minor transfiguration. The make-up seemed to conceal the scar quite well, and no one would be aware he was wearing it unless they scrutinized his forehead carefully. Harry had offhandedly suggested that no one would suspect it to be 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' if he appeared to be a young girl. Albus apparently thought it would be amusing to transfigure his robes and hair while Harry was applying make-up to his scar.

"Thanks. So, when do we leave?" said Harry, while he finished up in front of the mirror. He was eager to purchase his own wand so that he could retaliate in the future with some creative hexes of his own. Being a part of the Weasley family for twenty years did have its advantages.

"Soon. I must notify Professor Flitwick that I will not be in the castle this morning, and then we shall depart for Hogsmeade."

Albus had Harry sit down and then proceeded to change his unruly black hair to a light brown hue. Then he shortened it and transfigured his glasses from black frames to frame-less. No one would recognize the glasses, but Harry decided as long as he had to wear them in public they should be inconspicuous.

While Albus went to inform Flitwick, Harry waited by the main doors of the castle under his invisibility cloak. He was bouncing on his toes, full of energy. Almost five days without a wand. It was the longest period of time he had been wand-less since the summer after his first year, when the Dursleys had locked all of his possessions in the cupboard for the summer.

Albus arrived at the main doors and quietly called out to Harry. They strolled to Hogsmeade where Harry removed his cloak before they arrived in the town itself. As they entered the Hogshead Inn, Harry spotted Aberforth wiping down the bar with a filthy rag. The old man looked up. He spotted Albus and his face went stony. With a sharp nod, he went back to his cursory attempt at cleaning his bar.

There was no noticeable reaction from Albus beyond a returning nod. They moved to the fireplace where he pulled two Knuts from somewhere in his orange and sky blue robes and placed them on the mantel next to the floo-powder jar. He then handed the jar to Harry who took a pinch out and threw it into the fire.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" he stated, and strode into the green flames.

Moments later, Harry stepped to the side of the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace and brushed some soot off his shoulders. As Albus appeared, Harry marveled that the man never seemed to suffer from the filthy effects of floo travel. The two of them walked out the back door toward the alley. When one of the few customers present asked Albus who the young boy was, his only response was, "A family friend."

When they reached the entranceway, Albus tapped the bricks in the necessary pattern and they watched as the wall reformed into the archway that led to Diagon Alley. It was still fairly early, and there were not many shoppers about. A few stores were still shuttered, preparing for the day. Both of them thought it best that Harry get his own wand first. At least Harry thought it best. Albus seemed confident in his abilities to clear up any obstacles they might find themselves faced with, but he acquiesced to his guest's desire. As they walked down the alley, passing various shops on the way, including Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream, Harry was struck by the memories of sitting at most of those very tables. He remembered speaking with Mr. Fortescue often during the weeks he had stayed in Diagon Alley, before his third year. With decades-old conversations flashing through his mind, he and Albus walked through the front door of Ollivander's.

As the door closed, Harry looked around. The last time he'd been in the shop was to purchase a wand for Teddy. By that time Mr. Ollivander was retired, injuries from the war and his captivity slowing him too much to run the shop on his own. He still crafted wands occasionally, but the business itself was looked after by a family member of some relation. The man's eeriness was something Harry didn't miss. Suddenly, Mr. Ollivander himself was in front of them. His glowing, protuberant eyes pierced through Harry's disguise immediately.

"Harry Potter, I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of fitting you with a wand."

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander. It's wonderful here. How many wands can I try? How do I know which is the right wand for me? The headmaster told me that-" Harry was doing his best to seem like he really was ten years old.

"My boy, my boy!" His voice lowered to an ethereal, haunting whisper. "We both know the wand which seeks you..."

And then he was gone. Harry had hardly blinked when Mr. Ollivander scurried down one of the narrow aisles of his store. Seconds later he returned, holding in his hand a small box, similar to all of the others in the store. When it was opened, however, Harry saw something he hadn't expected. His wand.

"You know this wand," said Ollivander. It was not a question.

Harry nodded.

Albus was standing several feet behind them, his back against the wall. Having yet to be acknowledged, he stayed silent. The man presenting the phoenix feather wand puzzled Albus. It was not often that he was at a complete loss to what was going on around him, but this week had been overwhelming, all around. When Harry pulled the wand out of the box, it appeared as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Albus held his breath.

Mr. Ollivander looked thoroughly pleased, as if the wand had just completed an arduous and complex task. As Harry held the wand, he felt something quite different from the first time he had been matched with it in his original time. Lacking a magical outlet for several days, he'd apparently built up a level of magical energy, combined with his frustration, so that when he connected with the wand, it hummed. His eyes shook, the room seemed to be vibrating, but the hand holding the wand stayed stone still.

Without warning, light shot outward. Green bolts crashed into a shelf full of wands, scattering them. A golden ball of pure magical energy forced itself out, hovering in place for a moment before exploding. The remnants fell, landing on every available surface and resting in place before melting like snowflakes. Then, bright blue sparks emerged with a sharp _CRACK _that lingered, powerful as thunder. They flew toward the ceiling, flowing in every direction as they struck. It was similar to standing underneath a fountain. Red sparks came next, flashing brilliantly as they lit up the store. The normally dreary surroundings glowed, almost indistinguishable from blood.

Then, in succession, came orange, purple, yellow and so many other colors. They flowed out the tip of the wand slower than water, lingering when they hit the floor, covering it in a rainbow of magical energy. Albus stood rigidly still against the wall, eyes wide. He reminded himself that this was a ten year old with the skills of a powerful man. Harry's magic, in his younger body, might not have been fully developed yet, but his _will_ was extremely powerful. Possibly unbreakable, based on some of the memories viewed in the pensieve over the past few days. Memories of Harry successfully resisting the Imperious Curse, dueling Riddle more times than most wizards laid eyes on the monster, fighting for years for what he knew was right while the rest of the wizarding world waffled. Yes, he decided, in truth Harry had a will far stronger than Albus' own, even when he was a child. And now, he was again a child, and would be sorely underestimated by the dark. Albus glanced at Harry. The boy was staring at the wand in awe and confusion, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. This would certainly be interesting.

* * *

"So when do you leave?" 

"Monday. I'll only be gone a few weeks."

"Mum's upset."

"It's closer than Egypt."

"I'm not working with _dragons_..."

"You're a curse-breaker! That's way more dangerous."

"Yeah, but curses don't spit fire at you. Usually. And even when they do, I don't up and tell mum about it."

"You don't tell her anything about your job, do you?"

"She knows I work with goblins..."

Charlie Weasley sighed and frowned at his older brother. Bill had been gone a year now and grown his hair out. It was down to his shoulders and he hadn't given any indication he was going to stop the growth anytime soon. That, along with the new fang earring, had just about caused their mother to commit an act of accidental magic for the first time in thirty years.

"So, you seem pretty worn out, even for the amount of portkeying you did. How're the tombs treating you?"

"Yeah, well Rock and I had a bit of an adventure getting back to the main camp. We got caught in a sandstorm. It was-"

"Bill," Charlie looked around to make sure their mother wasn't within earshot and decided to be safe, rather than sorry. "Let's go flying. When was the last time you were on a broom?"

Catching on immediately, Bill nodded and the two brothers changed their location to the shed that held the family brooms. Charlie pulled out his new Cleansweep Six.

"When'd you get that?" Bill eyed the new broom.

"When I was named Captain."

He handed Bill the old Cleansweep Five he'd left at The Burrow when he moved to Egypt.

"I would've thought they'd sold it by now," said Bill.

Charlie shrugged. "I think they wanted to, but the twins convinced them to wait on it. We still have my old 'Five', too. They want to see if they make the team."

"And?"

"And, I think they will. You know they're brilliant flyers, and with Devon and Alex gone..."

"Gryffindor needs beaters," said Bill.

"Right, and who do you know that works better as a team than them? Hell, they're a made to order pair if there ever was one. We may even have a shot at The Cup this year."

"Fair enough. Merlin knows they're never going to get one for becoming prefect or head boy, so they might as well take what they can get."

Instead of responding, Charlie mounted his broom and shot into the sky. Bill followed him a moment later. He hadn't ridden a broom since a week after graduation, just over a year ago, and was a little rusty. Catching up to Charlie, who had skills equal to a professional quidditch player, Bill motioned him over and Charlie urged him to tell his story.

"Ok, I think we're high enough. I doubt mum will be able to hear us. I'd actually bet two sickles that we'll have trouble hearing her until she's screaming for us to come down so loudly that we won't want to. So, tell me about this sandstorm."

Bill caught him up to the point in the journey when he and Rock had spotted the incoming storm, omitting certain details such as why he was on the way to Britain and how he had been notified of a meeting by Albus Dumbledore's phoenix. He didn't like lying to his brother, but rationalized it by telling himself it wasn't lying until he was asked about it.

"So, why did you need to get back to England in such a hurry?" said Charlie, on cue.

Bill grimaced. "I can't talk about it."

"Can't even tell your favorite brother?"

"Charlie, I-"

"Relax. It's okay. I figured when you went to work with goblins that there would be some stuff you couldn't talk about. So what else happened? With the sandstorm, I mean."

"Well, it was pretty sudden, so we had to camp out in the middle of nowhere for a night and most of the next day. Barely made it back in time. I was supposed to be here Thursday night, actually."

"Wow," said Charlie.

It was a cool night and the ground was cold. He and Rock weren't able to see the storm from the ground as they began cutting away at one of the boulders that occupied their particular spot in the desert. The boulder itself was huge, about twenty feet high and twice as big across, and almost a perfect dome. They cast spells at what was to be their refuge for the night, assuming they would survive long enough to finish. Bill was shouting blasting spells, knocking huge chunks of the boulder off and into the sand at their feet. Occasionally, small shards of stone would whizz by his face so fast he could only hear them and hope he wouldn't be struck. Rock was holding his left hand steady with his right, fingers extended, moving the debris from Bill's spells away from the small cavern they were creating. A few more minutes of blasting away at the boulder and the two of them had created a shelter just large enough for the man and goblin to occupy comfortably. Well, maybe not comfortably, but at least they would be able to sit, thought Bill.

Rock levitated the carpet with their supplies into the artificial cavern, further limiting the available space. Bill hoped that they wouldn't have need for it much longer than the night. It was going to be awfully cramped. An almost imperceptible tickling sensation made Bill brush his tousled hair out of his face, but it didn't help. He sighed and tasted sand in his mouth, crunching between his teeth. Almost immediately, he was covered. It was everywhere, his eyes, nose, more in his mouth. Suddenly, a gust of wind made Bill stagger. He looked toward the boulder and saw Rock shouting something. Since goblins lacked lips, he was unable to make out what was being said, and it was impossible to hear anything over the howling wind and rushing sand.

Bill lowered his head and put his hands against his eyes so he could see where he was walking when another strong gust of wind blew in from the opposite direction and into his back, knocking him to his knees. He stayed on the ground, crouching, and was knocked back and forth by bursts of wind and sand coming at him from every direction. He saw dim swirls when he looked up, trying to find the boulder and Rock. A moment later there was only darkness. The storm had blocked the pale stars and moonlight completely.

He had no idea how long it had been, but Bill realized he could no longer feel his hands or feet. Shivering with cold and the effort to keep from being flattened again, Bill tried to think. The wind had settled into a constant direction, blowing into his face. He tried crawling forward but when he moved his hand, he was pushed face first into the ground. Spitting furiously, he began to get frustrated. The boulder had to be nearby. Twenty feet was the farthest Bill had ventured from it while carving out the shelter. Picking himself off the ground, Bill once again attempted a warming charm but couldn't grip his wand properly with his numb fingers. Every attempt to stand had been met with derision by the wind, which shoved him back to his hands and knees every time. Without warning, he was sliding across the ground. He rolled a few times, sand forcing itself into any opening it could, before he struck something hard. The last thing he felt was cold, rough stone against his face before he lost consciousness.

Charlie was silent while Bill spoke. They sat on their brooms, hovering over the orchard behind The Burrow. As Bill trailed off at the point when he crashed into the boulder and been knocked out, both of them were quiet for a few moments before Charlie broke the silence.

"So?"

Bill laughed. "So, Rock saved me. Granted, it wasn't the best rescue, but as he said to me when I woke up, it's hard to cast straight in a sandstorm."

"That's all he said?" asked Charlie.

"Well, he called me a dimwitted, undersized giant for staying outside when the sand started to blow around. Said it was my own fault for not running for the shelter, and that obviously I needed a hit to the head."

"Sounds like mum."

"You know," said Bill, "I never really thought about it, but yeah. He is a lot like mum. Just more fun-loving."

"A goblin is more 'fun-loving' than our mother." He shook his head. "So, when did the storm end?".

"I woke up the next morning, or early afternoon, don't know exactly what time. The sun was out, and it was as hot as any normal Saharan day. The problem was that we were sanded in. Rock had transfigured one of the chunks of rock near the entrance into a sheet that we used to block the wind. When he removed it, we were hip deep in sand. Overall, it was a lot better result than it could have been."

"So you banished the sand and went about your way?"

Bill nodded. "After we found the carpet and dug the rest of our stuff out, yeah. It took us another day and a half to make it back to the main camp, and then we took a portkey to Athens. And another one to Amsterdam, and then finally back to London. Those international portkeys are exhausting, by the way."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie made a face. "I have to take four to get to the preserve."

Bill pounded his younger brother on the back. "Enjoy yourself with that, mate. We should head down, I remember mum mentioning something about lunch, and then I have a meeting at two."

The brothers flew down and replaced the brooms in the shed before walking to the house. Entering the kitchen, the smells of Molly Weasley's cooking made them both salivate.

"Boys, go clean up," said Molly without looking up from the stove as they walked into the room. They complied and sat at the table, waiting anxiously for the delicious smelling meal their mother had prepared. Carrying one plate and levitating several others, Molly placed food in front of each of the nine chairs. She called her husband in from the shed, where he was tinkering with something she didn't care to know about, then shouted for the rest of her children.

Soon enough, the kitchen was crowded almost to capacity with redheaded Weasleys. Ron and Ginny seemed to be having an argument and were refusing to look at one another. Percy was holding a book in one hand as he used the other to neatly place food in his mouth with a fork. Fred and George whispered to each other quietly, a bad sign to anyone who knew them. Arthur turned to his two oldest sons and spoke between mouthfuls.

"So, son," he looked at Bill, "what brings you back to England?"

"Other than visiting you lot?" he said. Arthur nodded as he ate. "I have some meetings. I don't know how long I'll be here, but at least for the weekend."

"Oh Bill," injected his mother, "please let me do something about your hair. You shouldn't be meeting anyone looking like that. It might be alright for the tombs, but surely the goblins would appreciate it if you looked a bit more respectable."

"Mum, the goblins don't care how I keep my hair. Most of them can't tell humans apart, let alone judge our hair styles."

"Well, at least they can tell you're human!" George yelled across the table and then pointed at Charlie. "He's going to have trouble staying off the menu at the preserve."

"Shut it. I'm only going to be there for three weeks. I doubt they'll even let me get close to the dragons," said Charlie, sadly.

Molly huffed. "I should hope not. You've haven't even graduated. Why they're even allowing you to participate in this silly-"

"Now, now Molly," her husband cut her off before she could get going. "Charlie will be perfectly fine. The preserve has an excellent safety record, and the experience will be invaluable for him when he finishes school."

"I suppose," Molly grumbled.

Ginny spoke for the first time. "You're gonna take pictures for me, right Charlie?"

"Of course. I have a bunch of film, and there's a village just a bit down the road where I can get them developed."

As lunch went on, Bill was reminded of both why he missed his family and why they drove him absolutely insane. By the time he checked his watch and saw he needed to floo to Hogsmeade, Percy had left the table in a fit of anger, Ron had finished enough food to feed four of him, talking through mouthfuls, and Charlie had been listening to their mother explain the differences in burn ointments for the fifth time that afternoon. He said his goodbyes, telling his father that he would be back for dinner that night. Throwing some floo-powder into the fireplace, he called out his destination. At least, his first destination.

"The Leaky Cauldron!"

When the spinning stopped, Bill stepped out into the dingy pub and looked around. No one had taken notice of him except for Tom the barkeep. They nodded to each other before Bill placed a Knut on the mantel and grabbed another pinch of powder. He was glad Tom didn't ask questions as he called out, "The Three Broomsticks!" and spun away to Scotland.

Exiting into the pub, he checked his watch and saw he had another twenty minutes to while away before the meeting. Ordering a butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta, Bill took a seat at the bar and relaxed. He was still trying to figure out what exactly he was doing here. During the long flight over the desert he'd had quite a bit of time to ponder what this 'situation' was that Albus Dumbledore couldn't solve on his own. At first he'd assumed it had to do with curse-breaking, but after pondering it, realized there must be many other wizards or witches more capable. From there his theories had varied wildly from helping with his twin brothers' behavior, to a job offer, and many things in between, none of which he thought likely.

Finishing his drink, Bill paid and moved up the street toward Hogwarts.

* * *

With ten minutes to spare, Remus exited the fireplace at The Hog's Head Inn. Aberforth Dumbledore sat at a barstool chatting with an unidentifiable person wearing a cloak that completely obscured them. They turned and observed Remus for a moment before going back to their conversation, not acknowledging the younger man further. Although used to this type of behavior because of his lycanthropy, Remus knew that Aberforth was just being himself. Unfriendly and unhelpful. Regardless, he felt no animosity toward the older man. His thoughts on blood and dark magic mirrored his brother's, though their personalities could not have been more dissimilar. 

Remus increased his pace up the main road to the castle. As he made his way toward the gates of the school, a muffled _pop _accompanied the apparation of a woman several feet in front of him. She quickly took in her surroundings, caught the surprise on his face, then lowered her wand and placed it back in her robes. It took him a moment to identify her.

"Director Bones," he said, inclining his head slightly.

Amelia scrutinized the man in front of her. He wore robes that had seen better days, frayed a bit at the edges and a few years out of date. There were a few grey hairs scattered about on his head, especially concentrated at the temples, but his face appeared much younger. An itch at the back of her mind told her this was someone she had met before.

"Hello. I'm sorry, but I can't seem to remember your name. Have we met?" she said, shaking her head apologetically.

Remus tried to smile, but it appeared as a grimace. The only time he had met Amelia Bones was at the funeral of her brother, Edgar, who had been in The Order. Memories of that night tried to force their way into his mind and he tried to stomp them down. He had sat between Sirius and James that night. Sealing his eyes tightly, Remus refused to recall anything about The Traitor. The murderer of his family. The man who had lied to them all for years, pretending to care about them. To love them. Their brother. _All__ lies_.

"Edgar's funeral. It was a long time ago," said Remus, finally.

Amelia nodded. "Remus Lupin, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. It's good to see you again, Director." Remus was surprised, but then realized she must have a good memory to climb so high through the Ministry ranks.

"You as well, Mr. Lupin. If you'll excuse me, I have something that I must attend to."

"Certainly," Remus replied as he bowed slightly, once again. When the two of them took several steps in the same direction, toward Hogwarts, they both halted and stared at each other.

"Do you have business in the castle?" Amelia asked him, her eyes searching his for any sign of malice.

Remus was bewildered for a moment. Deciding it unlikely the Director of the DMLE would be visiting Hogwarts during the middle of the summer for any other reason, he chanced hinting at the letter from Dumbledore.

"Well, apparently there's an interesting situation at the castle that I'm well suited to help resolve. I don't suppose you would know anything about it?" He smirked at the widening of her eyes before Amelia regained control of her expression.

"It seems that we may be here for the same reason. Shall we?" Amelia motioned at the gates in front of them, and the two walked through and onto Hogwarts' grounds.

* * *

"Are they all here?" Harry asked when Albus walked into the headmaster's guest quarters. 

"Yes, Harry. They are all enjoying a cup of tea, and extremely curious as to why I have called them here today." Albus looked down at Harry, who was sprawled on the floor next to the bed he had been sleeping in for the past few days. His back was propped up against his new truck they had purchased in Diagon Alley that morning. An owl cage sat by the open window. Harry's new owl, yet to be named, was staying in the owlery until Harry moved to Potter Manor. That plan was dependent on Remus accepting the idea that Harry was not a ten year old boy, but a time-traveler from the future. He and Albus both agreed that even though Harry could easily take care of himself, it would be seen as exceedingly odd for a young boy, not yet of Hogwarts age, to be living on his own in a large manor. They had decided that Remus would be the logical choice to stay with Harry until they could free Sirius from Azkaban. _That_ plan was dependent on the other two people in the neighboring room.

"Alright. Let's do this. No sense in waiting, is there?"

"Indeed. Would you like me to lead the way?" said Albus.

"I think that might be a good idea. We may give poor Moony a heart attack if I just walk in and say 'hello'."

Albus chuckled and preceded Harry into the passageway to the office.

There were five chairs set up, facing each other, in front of the headmaster's desk. Two of them were occupied by Bill and Remus, who were discussing their spotty knowledge of recent wizarding news. Amelia stood next to Fawkes' perch, gently stroking the magical bird on the head as he crooned softly. None of the them knew each other well. Remus had assumed the awkward duty of introducing two people he was hardly acquainted with to each other. He had met Bill's parents and late uncles through The Order, but it had been almost ten years since he had spoken with them. All three were eager to learn the reason Albus had brought them to Hogwarts in the middle of the summer. They could think of no reason to have the Director of the DMLE, a novice curse breaker and a werewolf who had spent the past nine years in self-imposed exile together for a meeting with the most powerful wizard of the age. It was baffling.

Amelia knew Albus was eccentric, and she held no animosity toward either of the others, but she was most definitely befuddled. Bill had been amazed to find out that his parents had been part of the first fight against Voldemort. They had never mentioned anything about it, though knowing his mother, that wasn't surprising. Remus was wary. There was nothing he could conceive of that connected the three people in the room beyond being related in some way to The Order of the Phoenix. He had been an extremely junior member when Harry had finally defeated Voldemort, and Bill and Amelia's connection was only secondary. Added to all of that, Voldemort was dead. He had been dead since that Halloween night.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted by a noise from behind the desk. Albus Dumbledore stood in a doorway, a small boy with dark messy hair and glasses next to him, half the older man's height. Amelia stepped away from the phoenix and walked back to the other two men, stood behind her chair, and waited for an explanation.

The boy was grinning, noticed Remus. The hair reminded him of someone and he searched the face for a moment, trying to capture the memory before his eyes locked in on the boy's forehead.

"Harry?" he gasped.

The boy's grin grew wider as he stepped forward into the room.

"Hi, Remus," said Harry. He struggled to not laugh. He also suppressed the urge to run over to the man he hadn't seen in over a decade. Harry decided giving some time to adjust would be best at the moment.

"Harry Potter?" asked Amelia as Remus continued to stare, slack-jawed. Bill was rooted to the spot, leaning back in his chair, dumbstruck.

Albus spoke next, noticing the lack of coherency in the three.

"To be sure, this is Harry Potter. Before we continue, I must ask something unusual of you all. It is truly a matter of grave importance that nothing said in this office today is ever spoken to anyone. Family and friends that you trust with your life must not know of this. The day may come when you can share it, but that will not be for quite some time. Years, perhaps. I must ask you to make an Unbreakable Vow, all of us together, before any other information is revealed. If you choose not to participate, I will unfortunately be required to obliviate you so that you have no recollection of our meeting here today."

He gave the three of them a moment to calm down and think about what he had said. An Unbreakable Vow was extremely dangerous, a spell that would would kill anyone who violated it's terms. Remus was the first to shake himself back to reality. He had barely registered the words spoken by his old headmaster, but after a moments contemplation, knew what he had to do. If something this important involved Harry, he would gladly do anything to help. He owed James and Lily that much. And Harry. Especially Harry.

"I'll do it," stated Remus, unequivocally.

Bill looked unsure, his eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Albus. Amelia sat ramrod straight in her chair, her eyes boring into Albus', trying to determine what exactly he was hoping to accomplish. As usual, she saw nothing but kindness, a bit of mirth and the almost undetectable aura of power that he attempted to hide behind his grandfatherly facade. She knew Albus Dumbledore was a good man, odd at times and often more interested in his schemes than the individuals he used to carry them to conclusion, but a decent human being who would never knowingly harm a friend or ally. She decided to go along with his plan, her curiosity almost exploding out of her chest.

"I can't say I understand this, Albus. Then again, very few things I've known you to do make much sense until I've seen the end result. I'm willing to do it if you guarantee our safety."

"Thank you, Amelia. That guarantee is given, on my magic. William, are you alright?" Albus looked at the young redhead who had yet to move. He was still staring at the two of them, almost catatonic except for his eyes, which were still moving constantly. Eventually he nodded.

"I guess so. But...an Unbreakable Vow?"

Harry spoke up. "Bill, I promise that unless you are planning on joining the Death Eaters, you will never need to worry about breaking this vow."

The other two stared at what they thought was a ten year old boy. He was speaking with such confidence, as if he were in charge of the meeting. Bill was still too shocked at the request of an Unbreakable Vow to notice the strange way the young boy was acting and simply nodded.

"Since I would die before I joined 'You-Know-Who', I guess I can't really argue. Are you sure it's necessary?" said Bill.

"Absolutely necessary, William. The information we are about to share with you will surely change the future of our world. Change it in ways we can only hope are for the better. You must complete the vow before we continue."

Trusting his former headmaster, Bill nodded again and took out his wand. The other four did the same. Remus and Amelia stared at Harry's wand, which was still in his hand, hanging at his side.

"Why does he have a-" Amelia was cut off by Harry before she could finish.

"The vow first, and then we'll explain everything."

Remus only shook his head in wonder and touched his wand to the tip of Amelia's. It was joined by Bill's and then, finally, by Albus'. Harry raised his own wand over his head and stood in between Albus and Remus. Fawkes sat on his perch, watching the proceedings, completely silent. Remus looked toward Harry and the boy stared back at him, a grin working its way onto his face. Amelia swiveled her head and leaned forward to watch their interaction. She was going to ask why the boy was not a part of the vow, but then realized her questions would only be answered after it had been completed.

Harry spoke first. "Will you four, William Arthur Weasley, Amelia Susan Bones, Remus John Lupin, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear to willingly keep what is said here today between only those present?"

"I will," the four said in unison. Sparks flew out of Harry's wand and formed into separate tendrils of red fire. Each of the four's hands were surrounded by the heatless flame that slowly swirled around their wrists.

"And will you swear to never use the information you learn today to put any of the others here in danger? To never willingly share it with any being who would wish the five of us harm?"

Once again, they made the vow. Remus continued quietly. "I swear it on my life."

Another four tendrils of fire moved down their arms before joining the existing flames in a strange, captivating dance. After a moment of quiet, Fawkes intoned a single soft note and the flames that surrounded each of their wrists quickly flew into their wands, causing them to glow bright red for a moment before fading.

Harry lowered his wand and sat in his chair. Albus joined him as the other three looked down at them, uncomprehending. Remus was the first to follow, then Bill. Only Amelia remained standing, and her look of confusion was clearly battling frustration.

"Albus, what the hell is this all about? And why did a ten year old child just perform an Unbreakable Vow? I don't give a troll's lumpy arse if he is 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', you have some serious explaining to do!" By the end of her tirade, Amelia was close to yelling. Her normally calm veneer had been completely discarded.

"Madam Bones," said Harry, "perhaps it would be best if I explained myself."

The three newcomers swung their heads so rapidly that Harry was sure they would be suffering from some tenderness that night. With four sets of eyes focused on him, Harry grinned. He remembered when he had done everything he could to avoid such attention. In the years after the defeat of Voldemort, his time had been consumed by Auror training and familiarizing himself with the inner workings of The Ministry. His fame and new position had forced him to deal with his insecurities as he became a public figure. A public figure for a_ reason_, he mentally added.

"Harry has come to me with quite a tale," began Albus. He continued as he gazed into the eyes of the three. "I have no reason to doubt him, and every reason to believe what he has to say. I strongly urge you to trust us, for what Harry is about to share will certainly shock you more than my request to participate in the vow we have just completed."

"Right," Harry started, "so this will probably be hard for you to believe. I am _not_ ten years old."

"Harry," Remus tried to stay calm, "I was there when you were born. I held you as a baby so many times before...before it happened. How..." he trailed off.

"Moony, I understand why you're confused. Just trust me on this, for now."

Remus had shot back in his chair when he heard the nickname from his youth. Almost no one knew of it. Perhaps Dumbledore had told him, he thought.

Harry continued. "I can see that shocks you. I know quite a few things about you. About all of you." His eyes swept across the faces in front of him.

"I am ten years old, physically. But mentally, psychologically, I am thirty one. I have been sent back in time to my ten year old self. I know it's hard to believe. Hell, for the first day or so I could barely think rationally."

Exclamations of disbelief were quickly silenced by Albus. "Quiet, please." He said it softly, but the hint of authority in his voice was enough to end the murmuring.

Bill was the first to speak. "That's amazing. You're from the future? But...wait. If you're from the future, did this all happen before? You know what's going to happen?"

"William, this situation is unique. Harry has not only traveled back in time, but to a new universe. A different reality, if you will. It would seem that the only difference between his original time and this one is Harry, himself. It appears he is the point of divergence between the two."

"How did this happen?" asked Amelia, breathlessly.

"We don't know," said Harry. "It's a mystery. Nothing like it is known to have happened before...at least not in this universe."

Remus leaned forward. "If what you say is true, and I'm not doubting you, then you know what happens to us. You know all about us."

"Remus, I know what happened to you in my universe. And in my universe there was something that occurred that we will be trying to prevent with my knowledge of the future, while it's still valid."

Bill looked between Harry and Albus, indecision plain on his face. He finally decided to ask his former headmaster since he didn't know how to address the boy/man who had spoken. "Headmaster, what do the three of us have to do with this? I can understand Director Bones being here, and I don't know Remus very well, but why me?"

"William, you have not been a student of mine for over a year. Please call me Albus. As to your question, I think Harry is the best person to explain." He held out his hand to Harry.

"And call me Harry, all of you. Even when I held your position, Director, I never relied on formality all that much." He looked at Bill and found the sight of his old friend and brother-in-law at such a loss quite amusing. After the final battle, the two of them had grown close. Harry had spent some time at Shell Cottage, sometimes with Ginny, though often alone. He sat by Dobby's grave for a few minutes each day, thinking about those who had been lost during the war. Bill and Fleur had shared their home with him as he healed. Every evening he ate dinner with the two of them. The day Fleur discovered she was pregnant, he had been there. It was at Shell Cottage that Kingsley had called upon him to become an Auror and help the new Ministry clear out the centuries old corruption. Bill reassured him it was the right thing to do. They'd made Harry and Hermione the godparents of their daughter, Victoire, while Bill and Fleur were named Lily's godparents. Harry knew that all of the Weasley's were his family, but only Ron and Bill truly felt like brothers.

"There are things that need to be done, before events are out of our control." Harry took a deep breath. This was the moment. He would know for sure if his plan to end the war, before it could begin, was viable.

"Bill, in my universe, we were family. Literally. You were my brother-in-law. You, Ron, and his wife were my best mates. Ginny was my wife and the mother of my three children. The Weasley's are the best family anyone could ask for, and I know I can trust all of you with my life."

Bill stared open mouthed at the boy sitting in front of him. Harry shifted his gaze to Amelia. "I didn't know you well, Madam Bones. I knew your niece, though. She was a good friend, and extremely loyal. When The Ministry tried to discredit us," he motioned to Albus and himself, "you stood up to Fudge and his sycophants. Everyone I knew, everyone I trusted, said you were an honorable person and a powerful witch. I believed it then, and I believe it now."

Finally, he locked eyes with Remus. "Remus. Moony. You were like a brother to me. And a teacher. In fact, you were my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for a year." Harry grinned as Remus glanced at Albus, who had a small smile etched on his face.

"All three of you are people that Albus and I both trust, implicitly. You would fight for the light until your death, if necessary. I know this will come as a shock to you, but Remus, Amelia...that's exactly what you did."

Albus added to that. "The ways in which you were lost in Harry's universe were honorable. You both perished battling Death Eaters, under the orders of Tom Riddle. You know him as Lord Voldemort."

They both gasped softly, then looked at each other and came to an instant understanding. Things would be different in this universe. They might be killed in this reality as they had in another, but they would try to stop the war before it could claim any other lives. Only Bill seemed bothered by the name. Amelia's eyes turned cold, while Remus just shut his and exhaled sharply.

"He's coming back, then. The bastard isn't dead?" he said, eyes still closed.

Harry was the one to answer. "Not yet. But he will be. Soon. We will make sure of it. All of us. We'll take care of Riddle and any of his evil slaves who even think about rejoining him."

"So what do you need me for?" asked Bill. "No offense, but I'm just a curse-breaker. I haven't ever fought a real duel, and I wasn't around for the last war. I wasn't even in school, yet."

"Well, Bill. Beyond the fact that I trust you and you're more skilled than you think, there's something in The Burrow that we need. Something that belongs to Riddle, and very important to us. Scabbers, Percy's rat, will be enough to help us run Fudge out of office and install Director Bones as the new Minister. If she'll take the job, that is. Director?"

The woman nodded, so shocked from the past few minutes that she barely understood the question.

"Are you serious?" said Bill.

"No, I'm Harry. We'll free Sirius after we arrest Pettigrew."

Remus fainted.

* * *

_A/N- Yes, my first 'official' author's note. This is not a Super!(heh) Harry fic. Really. He just has the knowledge and experience of an older wizard of above average power. Wands are smart like that. _


	5. It's Coming Down

_Wow, so many reviews. I am responding to all of them, except for the crazy anonymous reviews who don't leave their e-mail address. I'm not going to spam you with porn...at least not tasteless porn._

_I forgot to thank The Sushi Monster, beta of doom, in the last chapter. Thanks Sushimeister. Also, johnnydicaprio helped out with this chapter making sure that it wasn't a complete mess. _

_Doh! kehlencrow is my 'gamma'. I forgot her too...I am a forgetful person, eh? Damn brain and its not working._

_Oh, and go read _Bungle in the Jungle: A Harry Potter Adventure, _by Jbern. Simply amazing, and hilarious. I couldn't stop laughing. _

**_Disclaimer_**_: JKR owns everything, including your soul. I lost my soul in a bet years ago, so I doubt she owns mine. I don't know which of us is better off. _

_**There is no nifty line separator in this chapter for changes in location, so pay attention. :)**_

* * *

**It's Coming Down**

Just over a week later, several plans were set into motion.

Nadia Chalmers followed Bill Weasley carefully while underneath an invisibility cloak. They were walking through the front yard of The Burrow, approaching the front door. She had no idea why she was there, only that Director Bones had ordered her to tail Weasley for surveillance. When she had asked her if Weasley was a target, which was doubtful knowing the little she did about the family, Amelia had shaken her head.

"Auror Chalmers, we have reason to believe Weasley will encounter a fugitive. It will probably happen near his home. The man we are searching for is an animagus, and will likely attempt to escape if confronted. Weasley is aware that we have Aurors shadowing him, but he does not know any details." This was a lie. Amelia and Bill had decided on the plan together, with advice from Harry and Albus. Each step was carefully mapped out and argued upon by the five who knew the truth about Pettigrew.

Remus was the hardest to convince. When he discovered that Sirius was innocent, his guilt had become almost overwhelming and he finally accepted Harry's story without reservation. He'd desperately wanted to go after Pettigrew himself, relenting only after Harry and Amelia carefully explained that not only would Pettigrew immediately know he had been discovered, but if Remus lost control and somehow killed the rat, Sirius would never be freed. That had sobered him, immediately. The pensieve memories of the reunion of the last living Marauders had brought him to his knees.

At the same moment that Bill opened the front door and stepped into The Burrow, Albus Dumbledore was convening an emergency session of the Wizengamot. Watching the other members file in, his eyes met those of Augusta Longbottom, who nodded to him. Amelia Bones walked by her side, and spared a quick glance for Albus before continuing her whispered conversation with the aged witch. Several minutes passed as the chamber filled with affluent, and almost exclusively pureblooded, witches and wizards. A small group entered with Minister Fudge, and Albus recognized several known Death Eaters among them, including Lucius Malfoy and Douglas Nott.

Bill paused before shutting the door, trying to be inconspicuous as he left it open so the Auror could slip inside. He could hear her footsteps falling lightly upon the floor.

"Cast a silencing charm on yourself, or something. He can't know you're here," he whispered. Hearing a very soft muttering, and then nothing at all from the space he believed the hidden Auror to be, Bill continued on to the kitchen, where he planned to make some noise so The Rat would think he was simply preparing himself a quick snack.

Fudge called the session to order, and then turned to Albus. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and the one to call the emergency session, it was his duty to steer them to business. The ancient wizard stood, and almost immediately, with a few noticeable exceptions, the chamber quieted. After the usual opening remarks, and a few trivial motions being submitted and voice-voted on, Albus inquired to the group of wizards and witches if there was any more business to discuss before the main topic of the day was brought up. With no voices forthcoming, he opened the meeting to debate. The first person to rise was Augusta Longbottom.

Remus and Harry sat in a boat, somewhere in the middle of the North Sea. They were headed to Azkaban Prison. The stormy water was making Harry a bit nauseous while Remus sat quietly. His guilt caused anxiety at seeing his friend, thought to be a traitor for so many years. It was dark, though just past noon, the sun hidden behind gray clouds that swirled above them almost as violently as the water underneath their small, rickety boat. They floated on in silence, too cold, too enveloped in thoughts of Sirius, to say anything. Out of the mist came an outline of a rocky shore, followed by the towering shape of the prison itself.

As they climbed the stairs to the third floor of The Burrow, Bill and his silent companion slowly withdrew their wands. When they reached the top step, just down the hall from Percy's room, Bill muttered under his breath. "Here we go," and then in a much louder voice, called out to the empty house.

"Anybody home?" Knowing no one would answer him, Bill continued on down the hall. Walking to Percy's door, he took a calming breath. He couldn't foul this up. It was unthinkable. Holding his hand inches from the doorknob, he paused and raised a fist, signaling in the way Amelia had taught him, to communicate readiness among the Aurors. He heard nothing, but could feel the tension level in the hallway rise considerably. His companion was ready.

"I call for a vote of no confidence against Minister Fudge and his administration!"

The statement stunned the entire chamber into silence. For two-seconds. Pandemonium quickly replaced it. Fudge stood. The noise of over fifty wizards and witches shouting at each other, at Augusta Longbottom, at Fudge, at Albus, drowned out any logical voice. Fudge tried to call them to order, but no one was paying him any mind. This was unprecedented. A vote of no confidence less than six months after a Minister took office was unheard of and made Cornelius Fudge very uncomfortable. He looked to Albus. In any matter involving the Minister's position, the Chief Warlock chaired the assembly. Albus sat silently, his face expressionless. A few minutes passed, and with no lessening of the madness, Albus stood.

"Silence!" His voice sliced through the tumult, echoing in the great chamber. There were some scattered mutterings as the members of the Wizengamot took their seats and prepared to debate the proposition of electing a new Minister of Magic less than half a year after the election.

They gently struck the rotten wooden dock at Azkaban Island. An Auror who looked like he would rather be anywhere else greeted them stiffly and swished his wand, silently securing the boat. If he found it odd that there was a young child visiting the most feared prison on earth, he gave no indication. Harry could not make out colors once they walked ashore, only different shades of gray and black. Little was visible in the muted daylight and thick cool mist. The water was murky, and appeared to go no deeper than the foamy surface. It matched the sky. Remus followed the Auror down a narrow path toward the prison, Harry trailing behind. After several minutes, Harry began to shiver, his young body unable to insulate itself from the soulless chill. Remus put his arm around him and rubbed his back vigorously, trying to create some sort of heat. A moment later, they passed by an especially large group of rocks that cut off their view of the sea. Then they saw it. Azkaban towered over the island it was named for, reaching so high that the top levels were not visible through the fog. The three of them walked up to the forbidding structure.

Then they felt the effects of the dementors. Remus visualized his worst memory, even with his eyes open. He was standing outside on his front porch, drinking hot cider and trying to stay warm, searching for the fairies that his parents said came every Christmas. When he heard something that sounded like a dog whimpering, he stepped down onto the grass. The whimper turned into a growl and a huge creature slunk out of the shadowy bushes and stood on its hind legs in front of the small boy. He had wanted to scream. Nothing else went through his mind except for the desire to scream and scream, but only silence came when he opened his mouth. The memory left him as quickly as it had begun, and Remus saw a large glowing white cat of some sort trotting in front of him.

"_Verus Ostendo Animagus_!" shouted Bill as he whipped his wand toward the large rat sitting in its cage in the corner of the room. The room of his younger brother that this animal, and Bill still thought of him as an animal, had called home for so long was small and neat. He hadn't bothered taking him out of the cage first. It was fragile, only strong enough to hold a rodent. Bill and Nadia watched as a pale, disheveled, truly rat-like man with a small paunch, expanded and destroyed the cage. Peter Pettigrew only had enough time to open his eyes in shock as an invisible Nadia stunned and bound him. Bill added a containment spell he'd learned from Rockspear that would leave the Death Eater in front of them in a field of static energy, preventing any magic.

"Augusta Longbottom will be recognized," Albus stated, calmly eyeing the entire Wizengamot. There were still whispers making their way through the chamber as Augusta rose, plum colored robes swirling. Her eyes glittered as strongly as the silver 'W' on her chest. The rest of the members took in the sight of the formidable witch, usually quite even-tempered, glaring at the Minister of Magic, menacingly. Fudge fought the urge to swallow nervously.

"Do you think Bill got the rat? Maybe we should check in with Dumble- Albus. He said the vote wasn't a sure thing."

"Remus, I know it's stupid to say in our current situation, but you need to relax. We came here to get Sirius, and no matter what happens, they're not bringing him back here as long as Albus and Amelia are still a part of the Ministry. And even if they aren't, I'm still not letting them bring him back. Plus, Kingsley is waiting for us in the warden's office." Harry was concentrating hard on his happiest memories to keep his Patronus strong. Remus was so overcome with guilt and worry that he couldn't produce his own. The dementors weren't attempting to get any closer, but the feelings of hopelessness and despair that they radiated assailed the entire island. There were too many of them. The large cat paced back and forth between them and their Auror escort, holding off the worst of the effects for the time being. Occasional screams would make Remus jump as they marched down the bleak corridor, quickly making their way to the high security cells. Eventually, after what felt like hours of endless blind turns and screams from prisoners, the three humans and single Patronus halted in front of a single door that resembled all the others except for the nameplate. _Black, Sirius - Life_.

They had straightened the room and disposed of the wrecked cage. There was some time to spare as the rest of the Weasley family, minus Charlie in Romania and Arthur at the Ministry, was stocking up on school supplies in Diagon Alley. Stepping away from Bill, Nadia produced a portkey that would transport her and Pettigrew directly to a Ministry holding cell. Bill knew he wouldn't be going along, so he released the containment spell and then quickly aimed his wand directly at the traitor's face and pushed as much magic into a_ Stupify _as he could manage, insuring that the Death Eater wouldn't wake up for many hours. Nadia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, curious at the look of contempt on the face of the young man to her right. Shaking it off, she placed the empty billfold on her prisoner's chest, grabbed his arm and tapped the portkey with her wand, activating it.

"Evidence has been presented to me, as a member of the Wizengamot, and as Lady Longbottom of the Noble House of Longbottom, that Minister Fudge has accepted private monetary compensation from witches and wizards not authorized to participate in such matters of governance. He has also, according to the evidence I've received, purposely misled various department heads, employees of the Ministry, and the Wizengamot itself relating to these accusations. Due to this incontrovertible evidence, I formally request The Minister's resignation. Since I have little doubt he shall refuse, I move to call a vote of no-confidence!"

The uproar that followed was just as earsplitting as the previous one, and over it all Albus and Amelia could hear Fudge shouting, "Preposterous!" Amelia also recognized the usually sickly sweet voice of Dolores Umbridge snarling, "Lies! Lies! How dare you accuse The Minister of such absurdity!" Similar sentiments were being uttered by a small number of Fudge's supporters, while the rest of the chamber was filled with shouted requests of, "Proof! Proof!"

Metal scraped against metal, causing Remus to wince as his werewolf enhanced ears railed against the noise. The warden mentioned that he would be just beyond the door while they visited before taking Remus' wand and stepping back and out of sight. Harry quickly walked into the filthy cell, followed immediately by Remus. Inside, they had difficulty locating Sirius for a moment. A small bucket sat in the corner, overflowing with human waste, and both of them were forced to breathe through their mouths. The scent stuck to their tongues as they frantically searched the room. There was a small metal bowl at their feet, just to the side of the door, half full with a gray substance that appeared to be porridge of dreadful quality. It was the only food that the prisoners were fed except for the occasional nutritional supplement to keep them alive. The walls were the same color as the floor, black, with lighter shades scratched into them by the crazed, desperate fingers of previous occupants.

After a few seconds, their gazes settled on a mound of black fur that seemed to blend into the surroundings, curled up in the corner opposite the disgusting waste bucket. It was hard to see the dog through the matted fur and filth that covered it. Very skinny, with patches of skin showing through the grime, Padfoot seemed dead. There was no sign he was breathing.

"Padfoot?" Remus called out softly. The form in front of them stirred the tiniest bit, then remained still. Harry hesitantly moved over to his godfather, and kneeled by where he suspected the dog's head lay. Reaching out his hand, trembling with the horror of the sight of Padfoot in such a condition, Harry gently placed it on the grimy dog. Without warning, Padfoot leapt up and tried to snap his godson's arm in half. Harry jumped back, wand in hand, as Remus darted forward.

The shouts and arguments had begun to die down after a minute. Griselda Marchbanks stood straight and silent, looking straight at Albus. The ancient witch waited for several seconds before slowly scanning the entire chamber.

"Second!" she spoke firmly, in the loudest voice she could muster. As old as she was, Griselda was respected and known by almost every member of the Wizengamot. Her support of the motion was met with stunned silence. She had never been very active in legislation, content to sit back and vote on matters that concerned only her or her department. Albus nodded to her, then glanced at Fudge. The Minister's face was bright red and he looked furious. There were several people on their feet just to his left, standing in a group muttering to each other after it became apparent that there was some information powerful enough to convince both Longbottom and Marchbanks to stake their reputations on this vote. Neither of the witches were known as risk takers.

Albus called the chamber to order, then stood and spoke. "All those in favor of a vote of no-confidence toward Minister of Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge, please raise your hand."

It appeared few of the members of the Wizengamot were fond of the current Minister. He had made too many enemies already in the short time he'd been in office. Of the fifty-seven witches and wizards in the body, forty-five of them voted to allow evidence to be presented and the vote to be held.

"All those not in favor?" Albus watched as ten others, all wizards, raised their hands. Malfoy, Nott, and Parkinson among them. All ten were Death Eaters or suspected sympathizers. The only members to abstain were the man under threat of expulsion from office and Amelia Bones, who knew she had to appear impartial as the one presenting the evidence.

Albus was pleased. He had hoped there would be a large margin in the initial vote, but the results had been a surprise, even to him. Apparently, Cornelius was even less effective at politicking than he had been at governing.

Entering the dingy red phone booth that doubled as the visitors entrance to the Ministry of Magic, Bill searched his pockets for the muggle coins he had obtained. Distracted by the thoughts of his family having been in danger all these years, a Death Eater living under their roof, he punched in the necessary digits. When asked, by the inquiring automated voice, for his name and the reason for his visit, he stared at the phone and said, "Bill Weasley, here to present evidence that Minister Fudge is corrupt and incompetent, then observe him being voted out of office."

A few heartbeats later, a small badge appeared in the change dispenser. Bill looked at it before pinning it on the front of his robes.

_Bill Weasley, Attempted Coup_

He snorted. Ever since the first time he had visited the Ministry, the badges had always been a little too clever. The booth magically lowered itself into the atrium and he stepped out into a subdued atmosphere. The news of the no-confidence vote had apparently made its way out of the Wizengamot chamber rather quickly.

In the blink of an eye the skeletal animagus transformed into a gaunt and grimy Sirius Black kneeling on the floor, too weak to stand. His eyes were crazed, not recognizable to the two others in the cell. Harry stepped forward and faced his godfather.

The prisoner closed his eyes and lowered his head, defeated. "Come to give me the kiss, eh? Fine! Do it. Doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter anymore!" He snarled loudly, his underused voice cracking with the strain. Remus had taken a step back at the savage sound. Sirius was not completely sane, Harry knew, and the only thing they could do was wait out whatever feelings of self-loathing and hostility the man was feeling.

"Sirius, it's me. It's Remus. I brought Harry with me. We're getting you out of here. We're going home."

Sirius looked up, his eyes still slightly wild, and focused on the man who had spoken. Remus stared back into his old friend's eyes, willing him to understand and snap out of his madness. Slowly, gradually, the prisoner relaxed. The whites of his eyes were no longer so prominent. His body unclenched and he staggered back before stumbling into the wall and sliding to the floor. Sirius looked up and gave the impression he was aware of his surroundings for the first time since they had entered his cell.

"Moony?" he gasped. Remus beamed, a sight not seen often in one of the most miserable places known to wizard-kind.

In a small conference room several doors down from the Wizengamot chamber, Amelia Bones was speaking to Dolores Umbridge.

"Madam Undersecretary, the evidence against The Minister is overwhelming. I have had access to it for over a week, authenticating each accusation. There is nothing that would indicate Cornelius is innocent of a single one."

Umbridge was apoplectic, sputtering incoherently and spitting whenever she attempted to speak through her rage. Amelia had tried to avoid the unpleasant woman after a short recess had been called, following the approval by the Wizengamot to allow evidence of Fudge's dealings. The Minister's most devoted supporter had seized her like a seeker after the snitch and dragged her into this conference room. Her determination to disprove all charges before they could be presented would have been laughable had Amelia not known the lengths this particular witch would go to accomplish her tasks. The phrase Harry had repeated several times as they had planned the events of the day was a familiar one. Something ingrained in her mind since Auror training all those years ago. 'Constant Vigilance!' the infamous Alastor Moody had shouted in her face, in her ears, from behind, above and atop her, so many times that she had occasionally drawn her wand on friends and family during the first few years out of the Auror Academy. Fortunately, she had learned to temper those reactions, eventually. At the moment, however, her fingers twitched and she kept her hand near her wand, hoping she would not need to make use of it.

Getting through security had been no problem. As usual, the guard had not paid the visitor's badge any attention as Bill handed over his wand to be inspected. He quickly made his way toward the lift and took it up to the level for the DMLE. Arthur Weasley was sitting at his small, cramped desk in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office when his oldest son arrived.

"Bill!" Arthur stood as his son ducked his head in the room. "What are you doing here? Do you have a meeting at the Ministry?"

Bill stepped fully into the room. "Kind of. Do you know what's going on with the Wizengamot right now?"

"They're having an emergency session, or something of the sort. Professor Dumbledore called for it yesterday and they've been meeting for the past hour or so." He looked curiously at his son. "Do you have a meeting with someone on the Wizengamot?"

"Well, I actually needed to talk to you about something. I've been working with Director Bones for the past week, and there's a few things you should know about..."

The grin on Harry's face was so wide it was causing a slight ache. Sirius looked back and forth between the two people that had entered his cell. He was very confused.

"James?"

His smile shrank a bit, only to change into an expression a bit more comforting to his tortured godfather. "No, it's Harry. We've come to free you. They know about Pettigrew. They know everything. You're coming back with us, right now."

Sirius shook his head, bewildered. "Harry? But...Moony, what's going on? You two shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous!"

Harry shook his head and tried not to laugh. The joy of seeing Sirius alive was overwhelming his sense of horror. He would be alright, soon enough. The nightmares would come and go, and the guilt would never leave the man, not after almost a decade of reliving his worst memories, but he would be free. Truly free, not locked up in the house of the family he hated. Not constantly in fear for his and his godson's life. Free to do whatever he wanted, to go anywhere and do anything. If all went according to plan, Amelia and Albus would have the Ministry in line by the end of the day and Sirius would just be one of several patients at St. Mungo's recovering from being wrongly imprisoned in the hellhole known as Azkaban.

Remus reached his hand out and grabbed his best friend's arm to pull him to his feet. Harry moved to the other side and wrapped an arm around Sirius' much too thin waist. After hauling him up, they slowly shuffled to the still open door and met the warden.

The man pulled his wand. "What are you doing? You can't remove the prisoner!"

Remus slowly reached into his robes with his free hands and pulled out a roll of parchment. When he handed it to the irate man blocking their path, the warden glanced at it and, seeing the seal of the Ministry, quickly tore it open and read it. Then he read it again and looked a bit pale before shoving it in his own robes.

"Auror Shacklebolt arrived just before your boat docked. He's in my office. If I had known what this was about, I would have sent for him. I don't like transferring criminals without an escort."

Sighing, Remus nodded. "We understand, warden. Though, as you can see there is no threat from Sirius or young Harry, here."

For the first time, the warden took a good look at the young child in front of him. The boy was much younger than he had thought, probably not even Hogwarts age.

Then his eyes swept up his face to the forehead and he yelled out, shocked. "That's Harry Potter! What are you doing visiting this traitor? He's responsible for-"

"Can't you read, old man?" The frigid tone coming out of such a young child stunned the warden into silence. Sirius glanced down at the boy who was supporting him with surprise. Only Remus was aware of how angry Harry was. It worried him.

Arthur stumbled and almost crashed to the ground as they turned the corner, but Bill grabbed his arm to steady him and they continued to sprint down the corridor. Quickly, they neared the entrance to the DMLE's holding cells and Arthur burst through them with such force that the two Aurors on duty reflexively pointed their wands at him. The elder Weasley's normally pale complexion glowed as red as his hair in anger. Bill followed a bit more cautiously. After explaining the reason for their visit, both Aurors lowered their wands and answered the two redheads' question.

"Auror Chalmers arrived almost thirty minutes ago with one suspected Death Eater. She's finishing up the questioning now, did you need to speak with her?"

Bill responded quickly. "Yes, sir. We both need to see Auror Chalmers, Director Bones and the prisoner."

One of the Aurors looked at the older redhead. "Arthur, what's this about? Things have been crazy today and Bones didn't show after the recess began. Nadia said she was supposed to be here to help interrogate the suspect."

Popping an apple flavored hard candy into his mouth as he walked away from a small group of wizards, Albus reflected, again, how well things were going. He had spent the past twenty minutes of the recess speaking with as many members of the Wizengamot he could find. Most of them had stayed in various conference rooms near the chamber, while a few, mostly supporters of the Minister, had rushed out to let like-minded allies know about the upcoming vote and possible ramifications. All told, it was likely the magical government of Britain would be going through plenty of changes in the coming days and weeks. Augusta Longbottom and Griselda Marchbanks were two of the most well known witches in England. Griselda had tested almost every student who had graduated from Hogwarts, including most of the Wizengamot, since before Albus had attended. Augusta was of a noble pureblood family, connected with many others regardless of their allegiance. Between them, and Albus' informal endorsement of their call for a vote of no-confidence, most of the members of the body that governed wizarding life in Britain were falling into line.

He meandered down the corridor, greeting acquaintances as he went, before he stepped into a narrow passageway hidden behind a tapestry. He cast his phoenix Patronus with a message on how things were progressing, and sent it to Harry and Remus who would need the information to proceed with their plans. Stepping back to the main corridor, he began to make his way back toward the chamber. The vote would be held in a few minutes. He passed several doors, most containing storage or conference rooms, when he heard a faint sound that suspiciously resembled a scream. Stilling instantly, Albus focused on anything but the distant voices of the last few members of the Wizengamot reentering the chamber. There! He heard the sound again, a bit stronger this time. Whirling around, his robes billowing dangerously, Albus strode briskly toward the door where he believed the noise was originating.

The warden continued to point his wand at them. "Listen, boy! You shouldn't even be here. This is no place for a child."

"That's what I said..." muttered Sirius.

"This is no place for an innocent man, either." Harry shot back. "Do you ever wonder if the prisoners screaming out their innocence might just be telling the truth? Did it ever cross your demented little mind that people sent here without trial might not have gotten one_ for a reason_?" Harry was incensed. He wasn't going to let some contemptible Auror-wanna-be force Sirius to stay in this miserable excuse for what the wizarding world called a prison.

"Harry..." Remus pleaded.

"No, Moony. This...man isn't going to let Sirius leave here alive. It's his _job,_ after all." Turning to the warden, he gave the furious man an order. "You read the letter, go get Auror Shacklebolt." The man didn't move. "_Now!"_

Bill and his father slowed from a sprint to a brisk walk as they hit the stairs that led to the Wizengamot chamber. Entering the corridor, they spotted Albus standing in front of a door that led to one of the many smaller conference rooms on the level. He glanced at them as they appeared, then was blasted back as a spell shattered the door he had been hovering in front of, knocking him back into the opposite wall. Both Weasley's pulled their wands as a jet of green light took care of what was left of the door and shot splinters into the man slumped on the ground. They rushed forward, Bill holding his father back instinctively, and crouched as they approached the door.

Bill could hear the shouts and grunts of a duel being fought and spells being cast wildly. A jet of disturbing orange magic flew into the wall just above Albus' head, but the Chief Warlock rolled to the side with speed surprising for his age. A voice Arthur recognized oozed out into the corridor.

"I saw you talking to that old hag of a witch, Amelia! I know you're part of this...this coup!" Bill suspected that whoever created the badges for visitors might be smarter than he'd thought. "You can't do this to Cornelius, he's a great man!"

Amelia was not interested in debating the pros and cons of a Fudge run Ministry with the deranged woman currently firing curses at her. She_ was _interested in hexing her into oblivion, or at the very least, a long-lasting coma. Yes, a coma would do quite nicely. Dodging another unidentifiable spell that looked as if it was probably rather unpleasant, Amelia tried again to reach the door.

"Stop hiding, _Directo_r."The toad-like woman spat the title. Bill and Arthur glanced at each other. His father readied his wand as Bill prepared to come to the aid of his partner in this half-crazy scheme to reform the Ministry. Albus had slowly gotten to his feet and was now standing on the other side of the mutilated door. With a nod, all three of them entered the room at once.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" shouted Arthur while Albus sent a wave of magic into the room, throwing both women to the ground, disarming them immediately. Bill cast the same containment spell he had used earlier on Pettigrew at the petrified Umbridge. Amelia rose to her feet shakily, and grabbed her wand from where it had landed nearby before smoothing her robes. Albus mended his own. The four of them looked each other over, and finding nothing out of place, secured the, most likely former, Undersecretary to the Minister in traditional magical bindings.

Amelia looked at Bill. "Did you capture the suspect?" she asked, reverting to her 'professional' tone. Albus looked to Bill expectantly while Arthur appeared confused.

"Yep. No problems, so far. He's up in the holding cell. Are we still using him to-"

"Indeed, William." Albus had finished repairing the door and removing all signs of the impromptu duel that had taken place. Umbridge was still lying on the floor, still frozen in the containment field, but seemed to be vibrating occasionally. Bill was impressed. Normally, only an extremely powerful witch or wizard could affect the spell. As he looked closer, he realized the containment field itself was not being affected, but that Umbridge was so furious her entire body was shaking in fury.

Bill frowned. "What are we going to do with her?"

The other three looked at the wayward government official. Amelia spoke first. "I don't think she will sit quietly through the vote," she said with a wry smile. "Might as well take her up to the holding cells. I'll send her off with an Auror."

The foursome made their way back to the entrance of the chamber where Amelia assigned one of the Aurors flanking the entrance to levitate Umbridge to the DMLE holding cells until she could be interrogated for attacking a Ministry employee.

Arthur started off behind the Auror when Albus reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Arthur, I believe it would be helpful if you could share some of your thoughts on Minister Fudge with the Wizengamot before the vote."

"Are you really trying to replace him?"

Bill walked over to his father and held up his visitors badge.

Arthur stared. "I see. Well, the badges never lie. I'll do my best. I haven't had that much to do with him since he was elected, though."

"That's fine, Arthur," said Amelia. "If you'll come wait over here with the other witnesses, we'll call you within the hour." They led him to a room holding several other Ministry officials, most of them not as high ranking as Arthur, but there were some other sub-department heads present.

As the Auror departed with Umbridge floating in front of him, Amelia, Albus and Bill stood outside the closed entrance to the Wizengamot chamber. The assembled witches and wizards were most likely wondering where their two highest ranking members other than the Minister had gotten off to, and Bill was not going to let his part in the plan be exposed at the moment.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was experiencing one of the oddest days in his life since the war. When he had reported for duty, Amelia had informed him that his next few shifts would be spent portkeying between Azkaban and St. Mungo's. The idea of spending an extended amount of time at the wizarding prison had been disturbing enough, but when she had shown him the files on almost a dozen innocent people who had spent from three to twenty-five years in Azkaban, without trial, he had felt positively sick. So here he sat in the warden's office, his Patronus circling him to ward off the despair of the dementors, waiting to escort Sirius Black, of all people. One of the most reviled wizards in recent memory was an innocent man! He shook his head, sadly. How could the Ministry send people off without a trial? Kingsley knew that war resulted in some rules being bent, but Azkaban was worse than death. There were no redeeming qualities to it, and when he had spent time with members of other Ministries they had made clear their contempt for Britain for still using dementors to guard the prison. It was something most other magical governments had discontinued centuries ago.

The warden, who Kingsley couldn't help but dislike immensely for promoting the continued use of dementors in more than one DMLE meeting, bustled in and frantically confirmed with the Auror that Sirius Black was indeed innocent. When he mentioned the man and child who were still in the prison with the prisoner, Kingsley exploded.

"You left them with the dementors? Without a wand? You fool! You left a child to be kissed, you...you..."

He was sputtering in rage as he sprinted out the door, leaving a stunned warden to gape in horror at what he'd done. Approaching the corridor, Kingsley cast his Patronus and prayed he wasn't too late. The dementors would go after Black first, but weren't that particular about who they kissed. If it had been too long, he would have quite the report to file with Amelia. She would not be pleased.

Approaching Black's cell, he stopped dead in his tracks. A glowing white feline Patronus of some sort stalked the corridor, growling silently at a group of dementors who huddled together opposite the Auror. Black was a mess, sunken eyed and thin to the point of starvation. He shook his head...the things they did to these people, in the name of 'justice'. Remus Lupin, who he had met several times in the past week, was supporting the prisoner, whispering in his ear. The Patronus was apparently being cast by a young boy, staring intensely at the hooding creatures as if daring them to move forward. Kingsley could feel the power radiating down the corridor, feelings of happiness and tranquility pulsing off the cold stone walls.

"Lupin!" he shouted. The man looked up at him and an expression of relief crossed his face before he said something inaudible to the boy. Green eyes that the Auror could spot, even from the distance he was at, stared at him and a small smile broke through the concentration. Kingsley's lynx joined the unidentified animal holding off the dementors. He motioned the trio to move while the two Patronuses pushed the foul creatures back down the corridor. The four of them slowly made their way back to the warden's office.

Harry spotted the man first. "I'm glad your stupid enough not to check a _child_ for a wand, you idiot! We would have died back there. You're lucky the worst you have to look forward to is losing your job, because if it was up to me..."

"Harry, calm down," said Remus with a sigh. Harry stiffened and looked at the older man as if he were about to argue. Letting out a long breathe, he nodded once and holstered his wand. Kingsley was impressed. He had never known someone so young to be able to cast a Patronus, let alone one powerful enough to drive off dementors in the middle of the high security section of Azkaban. The righteous anger pouring off the boy was interesting, as well. He was a curious child.

"We need to get Sirius out of here. He needs healers, badly." Remus had spoken to Kingsley, who was still staring at the boy with interest. The Senior Auror shook himself out of his musings and nodded. Pulling out a portkey to the wizarding hospital, he moved toward the other three.

"Hold on to the portkey and it'll take us directly to a secure ward at St. Mungo's."

Harry and Remus looked down at the small hot sauce bottle and then glanced at Sirius. He was awake, but didn't seem very alert.

"Sirius. Sirius!" Remus shouted and Sirius jerked his head to look at him. His eyes were almost empty but for a small spark of something Remus didn't recognize. Harry did. It was hope.

A semi-transparent, glowing phoenix came into existence as the four of them reached for the bottle.

Albus' voice rang out into the silence. "The vote will be held soon. Take Sirius to St. Mungo's and come to the Ministry as soon as possible."

Kingsley looked at Harry, who the Patronus had stopped in front of, and grew even more curious. The jerk behind his navel startled him a bit as the portkey spun them through space to St. Mungo's.

* * *

_It may take a little longer than usual to post chapter 6...random Chinese holidays create work for me. _

_And, a challenge. Not a story challenge, but a challenge nonetheless. All my chapter titles are also song titles. I bet no one can figure out which bands go with which songs. At least not all of them. I wish you luck._

* * *


	6. A Certain Shade of Green

_Thanks to my international betas of doom. The Sushi Monster, Kehlencrow and johnnydicaprio. Good times._

_So here's chapter 6, and yet another song title. I can understand that no one got all five, since there are multiple songs with the same name...didn't really think that one through, did I? If you're wondering why I use song names...and I know you are desperate to know...it's because I am terrible at thinking of titles. And I'm lazy. That's it._

_Disclaimer: Nothing clever this time. I don't own Harry Potter. I _do_ own an almost empty bottle of Tabasco Sauce. Garlic Flavor. It's tasty. _

* * *

**A Certain Shade of Green**

"Doesn't look like much. This is where the descendants of Slytherin lived?"

Bill stood at the foot of a path leading to the old Gaunt house. To his left, Remus had his wand out and was casting various detection spells. Harry and Albus were a few feet ahead, searching for traps. The house itself was dilapidated. Gray, worn planks of wood aged by years of neglect gave it a sinister air. It reminded Harry of some Muggle haunted houses he had taken his children to.

Choking down the feelings of loss, he answered Bill. "Yeah, it's amazing what centuries of inbreeding can do."

Albus turned to them, satisfied that there was no dark magic in their immediate vicinity. "The Gaunt family's only successes involved frightening their Muggle neighbors. They were no longer powerful, magically, after so many generations of ensuring the family name was passed down through pure-bloods, exclusively. When they could not convince or coerce other families into marriage, they simply turned to their own."

Bill scowled. Remus joined the other three as they cautiously approached the shack. Inside, they knew, were the two magical artifacts they had come for; the Ring and the Stone.

As they neared the door, Harry spoke. "Okay, this place definitely has some defensive traps. In my universe, I wasn't present when Albus recovered the ring. His portrait didn't have all that much information either, as the enchantments are limited, but there are bound to be some nasty surprises."

"What kind of surprises?" asked Remus. "The cave with the fake locket seemed simple enough, after you got inside. Except for the potion, of course."

"Simple like hordes of inferi, you mean," quipped Bill. The other man glanced at him with a nervous grin as they reached a set of rickety steps that led to the entrance of the house. The corpse of a snake with shriveled, dried skin still hung on the door, unchanged since Morfin Gaunt had been led away to Azkaban for the remainder of his life.

Finding the house had been difficult enough. Every time they felt they were closing in on it, they had ended up wandering down the main road of Little Hangleton. At one point, the foursome had passed the town's small graveyard, a place Harry hadn't returned to in all the years following the Triwizard Tournament. Albus shared his suspicion that there was an extremely powerful repelling charm surrounding the property that was preventing them from locating it. Eventually, they found themselves gazing at the shack from a distance, fighting the urge to wander off. Remus had been the most affected. While the other three had experience fighting through repelling charms and other various defensive magic, Remus had spent almost a decade experiencing minimal magic. Whenever the werewolf got within a certain distance of the shack, even after they were aware of the problem and concentrating on correcting it, he'd wandered in the opposite direction, deaf to the voices of his companions. Harry had sent Bill after Remus while he and Albus disabled the repelling charm. When the other two returned to the property, all of them began the search for other protections.

"That's nice," said Harry, staring at the corpse on the door. "I didn't think the snake would still be here. Do you think...?"

Albus answered him. "Indeed, Harry. I am curious as to how I was able to bypass the protections in your universe."

"There must be another way in," said Harry.

Bill began to walk around to the side of the shack. "I'll go search the perimeter and see if I can find anything."

Harry looked at Remus, who seemed puzzled about what he would be doing. "Go with him. We should stay together, at least two of us at a time. Just in case."

Remus nodded. The oddness of taking orders from what appeared to be a child had worn off after several planning sessions, when it became abundantly clear that Harry was more than capable of strategic thinking. He followed Bill around the corner of the shack, mindful of various pieces of debris that had found their way to the tall grass that covered a majority of the property. The two of them proceeded cautiously, constantly aware there could be a deadly trap waiting for them. Bill would stop every few seconds and wave his wand, muttering in Gobbledegook. Remus knew a few words, but none that the redhead was using. When they approached the rear of the house, Bill stopped again and cast yet another detection spell. Suddenly, an eerie green glow emanated from a small, dusty window several feet above their heads.

"Harry!" Remus shouted reflexively. Bill spun toward him, mouth agape. Without warning, the green glow expanded and floated away from the window. It headed straight for Remus, who was so startled he could only stare in horror. Bill jerked his wand toward the field of magical energy, most likely a curse, he thought, and raised a shield, trying to contain it. The curse struggled against the shield, which started glowing a bright gold, crackling like melting ice.

"Move!" Bill shouted. Remus started to back away, still dazed by his own stupidity. He looked to his partner and saw Bill's face flushed with the exertion of holding the shield against what appeared to be very powerful dark magic.

"I can't hold this forever, Remus! Get out of here!" Bill was using a shielding spell he'd been taught in Egypt. Rock had impressed upon him that most of the ancient temples and tombs were full of deadly curses, and there was no way to run from them inside such an enclosed area. Shields were the best defense, and with a partner to back you up, it was usually simple to contain such spells. Remus, unfortunately, didn't know any of the counter-curses or shields needed to fight this type of curse off.

With a slight whooshing sound, the curse shot forward toward Remus, barely missing him, and struck the ground. All the grass within a five foot diameter of where it struck quickly wilted, turning from a vibrant green to yellow to brown, then finally black. The dead plants, cursed by dark magic unknown to both of them, then crumbled to pieces and floated away on the light breeze. Some blew toward Remus, causing him to sneeze and violently shake his head and swipe at his face.

Harry and Albus burst around the corner of the house. Harry's small child's legs were pumping furiously while his older companion seemed to only glide, hurriedly. When they saw Remus on the ground and Bill erecting shields on each visible window, Harry darted toward the fallen Marauder.

"Remus, are you okay?"

The only response was the sound of spitting, as Remus tried to get the bits of cursed grass out of his mouth and nose. When he looked to Bill, he saw that the curse-breaker had stopped putting up shields. He was now weaving temporary wards, assisted by Albus. Harry knelt beside Remus and tried to determine his condition. After a moment, the man finally stopped trying to expel the dead grass from his mouth and looked up into the green eyes of his deceptively young friend.

"Merlin, that was awful. There was some kind of protection on that window there," he said, pointing. "Bill put up some sort of shield and when it broke through, I dove out of the way." He finished with some retching noises, coughing up bile with bits of blackened, cursed grass in it.

Harry stood and helped Remus to his feet. "Are you okay? If not, you can-"

"No, I need to come with you. The more of us there are, the safer it is."

Harry sighed. It looked like Albus and Bill had things under control as far as the house went. The two men were sealing the house with spells he didn't know. Bill would place a containment ward in one area, and that would be quickly reinforced and added to by Albus. Both of them were working frantically, though Bill appeared much more flustered than his former headmaster. After several minutes, the two stopped their efforts and joined Harry and Remus.

"Perhaps we should attempt to enter through the front," Albus said.

A slight twitch of his lips caused Harry to grin back at him. "I guess. He probably wasn't expecting another Parselmouth to go looking for his Horcrux."

The four of them carefully made their way back to the front of the house, stopping in front of the snake nailed to the door. Albus peered through his spectacles, scrutinizing the door and surrounding walls, searching for any other magic that might make their entrance an unpleasant experience. Finding nothing, he looked down and nodded to Harry.

"_Open,"_ Harry hissed in Parseltongue. Nothing happened. He looked back up at Albus. Both of them were troubled by the lack of reaction.

Albus glanced at the other two. "Hm. It seems that will not suffice.

"What did you say?" asked Bill.

"I told it to open," said Harry. "That's all I had to say to get into the Chamber. Do you think there's a password?"

"Well," said Remus. "You said he wasn't expecting other Parselmouths to come searching, but what about snakes? Do they ever use the word 'open?'"

"Good point," said Harry. "What could the password be, though? Dammit! I wish I knew how you got in there in my universe, Albus."

"I do not believe it would be a true password, Harry," said Albus, soothingly. "I would hazard to guess it is a phrase that a simple garden snake would not utter."

Bill grinned. "Hidden Horcrux Hideaway?"

Harry smiled back, then seemed lost in thought for a moment. "No, nothing to do with Horcruxes. There's no equivalent for it in Parseltongue. Plus, the only alliteration snakes seem to like start with an 's.'"

The four of them pondered the problem quietly for a minute before Bill spoke again, hesitantly. "You said Riddle came up with the name V-Voldemort right before he started making Horcruxes?"

Harry and Albus nodded. Bill continued. "So, maybe it's something like, 'Open in the name of Lord...Voldemort.' Or something like that..." he trailed off, his face flushing a bit.

Harry shrugged. "Worth a try, anyway."

He began to hiss before being interrupted by Remus. "Harry, wait a minute." He turned to the curse-breaker. "Maybe you should put that shield up again, Bill. There's some very dark magic protecting this place."

Albus shook his head. "It is doubtful that any protections would be activated by a Parselmouth. Riddle believed himself to be the only one in existence, as he was when he hid the Ring here."

Harry nodded, and while the other two weren't completely confident in that assessment, they kept their doubts to themselves. A series of hisses from Harry followed, and the others watched as he focused, starting again and again, trying to find the right phrase to allow them access to the house. After several attempts, the snake carcass hanging from the door animated and hissed back at them. A slight _creak_ followed, and they all watched as the snake seemed to wilt before their eyes and dissolve into dust.

"Well, that was bloody disturbing. What'd you say?" asked Bill.

"I told it to, 'Open in the name of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.'" He turned to them and grinned, then swept his arm behind them, bidding them entrance.

"That's all, huh?" said Bill, stepping forward. "Well, at least he's humble."

* * *

Sirius Black woke up from the same nightmare he had been reliving for the past nine years. The only difference was, this time, when he awoke, the nightmare ended. It took him a moment before he reoriented himself. He was in a bed. A comfortable bed. He wasn't cold. The dampness he had become accustomed to as a prisoner in Azkaban was nonexistent. Shaking his head, he remembered some of the events from the past week. Moments he would have thought delusions floated to the foggy surface of his mind. Sirius knew then that he was truly free, since the dementors would not have left such happy thoughts roaming through his head, even as fantasies. 

The first morning had been the hardest. He'd woken up screaming, as had been habit for him at Azkaban. Memories of Wormtail, the night they made him Secret Keeper. The look on The Rat's face as he accused Sirius of killing James and Lily. It had been a smug little expression, mostly in the eyes. Every time Sirius saw those eyes, he would dream of one day committing the crime he had been imprisoned for, even if it meant killing a dozen or so innocent Muggles. He had stopped caring about unimportant concepts such as 'innocence' long ago. All he knew, all he could focus on, was that Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them all, and Sirius had only himself to blame.

Then Remus and James... No. Remus and Harry had come to free him. Harry! The boy looked exactly like James when they'd met on the Howarts Express. When the Marauders had first begun to conspire against boredom and uniformity. But he wasn't James. The small flicker of hope he'd built in that split second between seeing the boy's face and then hearing his response to the desperate query of, "James?" quickly subsided. The memories of his release were quite muddled afterward.

The next week was similarly jumbled. Waking up in St. Mungo's Security Ward, and being fawned over like a celebrity. The healers had been exceedingly friendly. Often, they apologized for his incarceration, which he waved off impatiently when he was aware enough to bother. They had forced potion after potion down his throat. Mind healers had come to speak with him every few hours, though the only one he responded to was a pretty little witch just out of training. It was the first time he'd smiled in years, watching her blush under his tide of compliments. It hurt the muscles in his face, and caused him to wince. That was followed by another round of potions.

Eventually - he didn't know how much time had gone by - he was dressed in nondescript robes and taken to the Ministry. He would have been nervous, but the healers and several Aurors had reassured him that he was only being taken to testify against Wormtail. The Rat. The Traitor. His teeth had clenched so tightly he thought he heard something pop as they led him into the chamber. Sitting in the chair of the accused, bound by magical chains and whimpering piteously, was the man Sirius had spent nine years in Azkaban for murdering.

He'd wanted to spit at him. Instead, a low growl that would have been more appropriate in his animagus form escaped from his throat. Wormtail must have recognized it, because the glum little man had jerked in his chair and turned his head as much as the restraints allowed. The look of terror on his face was almost satisfying to Sirius, but thoughts of James, dead, slouching on the floor, pushed any positive emotions away. Then the sight of Lily, collapsed next to Harry's crib, forced itself into his mind and the growl turned into a full snarl. Wormtail was not the only one who flinched away. Even the Aurors escorting him hesitated for a moment. He wasn't restrained, but he knew if he made one move toward the bastard, his chance at freedom might be jeopardized, so he resigned himself to only having to kill Wormtail if the Wizengamot let him walk free.

The trial had been short and uneventful. Minister Bones, newly appointed according to his Auror escort, quickly brought the collected members to order and spoke. "Peter Pettigrew, you have testified under the influence of veritaserum that you willingly served Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, as a Death Eater. You have also admitted that you were James and Lily Potter's Secret Keeper, and then betrayed them to Riddle. Additionally, you have testified that when Sirius Black confronted you about your betrayal, you created the appearance of your own murder and proceeded to frame Mr. Black for the murder of twelve Muggle bystanders. Do you deny these charges?"

Sirius watched with wide eyes as his former friend shook in his restraints. He knew he should have felt anger toward the man. Anger, hate, betrayal. The only emotion he was conscious of was sorrow. Nothing they did to Wormtail would bring back James and Lily. Nothing would give him back the years he spent in Azkaban, or the part of his soul that had died on that miserable rock.

The rest of the trial was a blur. Sirius vaguely remembered some moments. Wormtail's blubbering about Voldemort being 'too powerful to resist' and various other nonsense that would have enraged him had he not been so numb. His ears perked up as they sentenced Wormtail to a life sentence in Azkaban, but he'd felt no joy at the thought.

Afterward, he had been taken back to St. Mungo's where Remus and Albus Dumbledore had met him. Albus had been sitting in his regular seat as Chief Warlock during the trial, but Sirius hadn't noticed. The two of them sat by his bed, while Remus apologized and begged for forgiveness. After the last of several desperate attempts by the werewolf to regain his friendship, which had never truly been lost, Sirius had finally spoken. His voice was weak, an uneven croak at best.

"Moony, it was my fault. Don't blame yourself."

Remus leaned back in shock for a moment before responding. "How can you say that? I _believed _them! I thought you had betrayed us. Killed Peter... I let you rot in that hellhole for years. None of it is your fault. None of it!"

There had been silence after that. Albus had sat quietly next to the bed, his face an expressionless mask. He'd watched as Sirius stared blankly forward, not acknowledging his friend's pleas. Eventually they'd left him to sleep, but Remus had come back the next day, with Harry. That had brought life to Sirius' eyes, but then the same blank look appeared as he apologized to the boy for getting his parents killed.

Harry had not accepted that well at all. "Sirius, my parents would be hexing you back and forth across this room right now if they were here. They wanted you to take care of me. And yourself. You can't do that very well if you're sitting around feeling sorry for yourself."

The harshness had shocked Sirius back into reality. He'd glanced at the boy and seen his green eyes - Lily's eyes - glaring at him. Challenging him.

He sat up then. It was the first time since the trial two days earlier that he'd changed positions. After a stilted conversation with Moony, they decided he would come live at Potter Manor until he was well. There was no sense in taking up useful hospital space, after all.

And so he woke up in an unusual bed, completely disoriented, almost a week later. Remus and Harry had been away from the manor for most of the previous day, leaving early that morning. There hadn't been much interaction between the three of them since Sirius had arrived and he'd spent most of his time sleeping, both due to the potions he was taking and the exhaustion from being imprisoned for so long. Sleep was not easy to come by in Azkaban.

Looking out the window, he realized it was still night. A small sliver of moon hung in the sky, and he could almost make out the Quidditch pitch down the hill from the manor. He sat up, and for the first time since being exonerated, didn't feel any dizziness. Taking this as a good sign, he slowly stood and remained still for a moment before taking several short steps to the bathroom. After completing his business there, Sirius heard his stomach make a noise and suddenly barked a short laugh. He hadn't felt hunger in years. Certainly, he'd been hungry. Starved, usually. But the idea of true _hunger_had left him mere months into his sentence. The idea hadn't even crossed his mind since his release. At the moment, though, it was back in full-force. Taking cautious steps toward the door of his room, Sirius slowly opened it and stepped into the hall.

He remembered Potter Manor from his life before Azkaban. First, visiting during the holidays at Hogwarts, and eventually living there after being expelled from the 'Ancient and Noble House of Black.' Sirius snorted at the thought of anyone in his family being _noble_ and continued to make his way toward the kitchen. The manor itself was magnificent. Shining mahogany hardwood floors, with elaborate runners originating from every corner of the globe, guided him downstairs where he found a small room packed with various heirlooms and awards of the Potter Family. Some dated back centuries.

When he entered the kitchen, the gas lamps suddenly burst to life and a quiet _pop_ made him jump and search for the source of the noise. A small house elf stood in front of him, nervously tugging the bottom of a small apron that hung from its neck.

"Does Master's Paddy need something?"

Sirius hadn't dealt with house elves often, other than Kreacher, even before being sent to Azkaban. "I was just looking for something too eat. I...er," he stopped talking as the elf snapped its fingers and a plate of sandwiches appeared on the top of the kitchen table. The Potters had several different dining rooms throughout the manor, each for different occasions, but as a family, they had always eaten in the kitchen, especially after Lily had married James.

"Master's Paddy want anythings else? Sarey be happy to serve Master's Paddy again!" The elf was as excitable as any of its kind, and with the revelation of her name, Sirius remembered her as James' personal elf while visiting the manor in the past.

"No, thanks Sarey. Do you know when Remus and Harry are going to be back? I think... I need to talk to them."

The elf beamed. "Oh, Master's Paddy! They's arrived almost an hour ago. They's in the sunroom!"

Thanking the elf, Sirius grabbed half of a sandwich and exited the kitchen. Walking down the darkened hall and taking small bites of the, as usual, delicious food, he began to hear voices as he neared the sunroom. Turning a corner, Sirius saw a soft light radiating from an open doorway. He spotted Remus as his friend darted across the small section of the room he was able to see. A muffled voice that sounded faintly disapproving and then a childish giggle floated toward him. Hurrying his pace as much as he could, Sirius arrived at the sunroom and glanced inside.

"Moony?"

Remus spun around. "Sirius! You're up! Could you help me with him?"

Harry's response was a bit more enthusiastic. "PADFOOT! You're alive!" He stumbled a bit and fell to the ground, crouching there without moving. Sirius, worried that his godson had injured himself, rushed over to assist Remus.

"Harry! Are you okay? Here, let me help you up..." Sirius kneeled down and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. A familiar scent accompanied the boy, but Sirius thought nothing of it. As he propped Harry onto his feet, the boy opened his eyes and squinted at his godfather. Then he closed them.

"Moony? What's going on? Is he sick?" Remus smirked at the expression on Sirius' face. "What? He's acting like he's drunk or something."

"Or something," muttered Remus, with a snort. Sirius stared at him for a moment before the scent that he now recognized as firewhiskey drifted into his nostrils. Staring at the young boy he was holding up, Sirius was speechless for a moment before turning back to his friend with a glare.

"You gave him firewhiskey? Are you crazy, Moony?"

"_I_ didn't give it to him. He got it himself, from the house elves."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"It's his house, Sirius. What was I supposed to do?"

"He's a child, for Merlin's sake!"

The childlike voice, slurred by alcohol, interrupted them. "M' not drunk. Stop fighting. It's not good f' Padfeet!"

Remus sighed and walked over to the two of them. He helped Sirius guide Harry to the couch that sat beneath one of the many large skylights in the room and set the inebriated boy onto the cushions, but he refused to lie down.

"Harry, lie down," demanded Remus, but Harry wanted nothing to do with putting an end to his night.

"We got it Padfoot! We got it, and Albus destroyed it, and now there's only four left. Or Five. I can't remember. But we need to go to your house and get one, and then the bank, but the goblins aren't going to like it, but they took the sword anyway, so they can suck Merlin's sack! That's right! Who cares about bloody goblins, anyway? They're bloody rude. And what are you doing out of bed? You'd shoulda been resting tonight. It's late." The rant ended with a pointed look from Harry to Sirius, who had a gob-smacked expression on his face.

"Wha'?" Harry slurred. "You should be resting," he repeated. "How can we go get the Horercruses if you're sick?"

"Oh my," said Remus, looking sheepish. "I should have known how quickly the alcohol would affect him in this state."

Sirius transferred his look from Harry to Remus. "What did you think? That a ten year old boy would simply have a night cap and scurry off to bed? And why the _hell_ are you letting him drink firewhiskey, anyway? He's ten! What are you thinking? Are _you_ drunk? What is going on here?"

"M' not ten!" shouted Harry, as he sat back against the couch and slowly began drifting to the side. "I'm a grown man, dammit! I have a famy! And one of them's named after you, Padfoot. Not Padfoot. Sirius. Middle name, though. Sorry 'bout that. I'm sure you wanted the first name, but dad got that. At least you're together, huh?" Harry had begun to get a bit teary eyed at the point he started talking about his family, which only confused Sirius more.

Remus was grinning again. "He is going to be in quite a state, tomorrow."

"Moony. What the hell is he rambling about? I can't believe you let him drink. I shouldn't have gotten out of bed..."

"Moony!" Harry yelled and sat up in the blink of an eye, almost falling forward before Sirius caught him and gently pressed him back onto the couch.

"Yes, Harry?" Remus was having trouble controlling his laughter at this point.

"Moony. This's serious. Sirius, you should know, too. Sirius, this is serious!" He began to cackle, drunkenly. The pun, combined with the ability to say it to his living, breathing godfather, was too much for his well-oiled mind.

"What's serious, Harry?" Sirius, however, was not amused. His mind was slowly catching up with the ranting of his godson, and he was fairly sure he had heard a butchered version of the word, 'Horcrux.' That made him nervous.

Remus stood back, recognizing the color of Harry's face for what it was, and decided to let Sirius take the brunt of the effects of the firewhiskey.

"What's going on, Harry? What's so serious?" He turned to Remus. "Did he say something about Horcruxes?"

Remus nodded. "I'll talk to you about that after Harry goes to sleep."

"M' not going to sleep. Something important to tell you. Very secret, Padfoot..." The last part was a whisper and Sirius leaned forward, disregarding the green that now permeated Harry's features. He was rewarded for his inattention by a blast of vomit in his ear and along the side of his head. Swiftly moving away, the rest managed to only reach his socked feet and lower legs.

"G'night Moony, g'night Padfoot. I don' feel so good." And Harry collapsed onto his side and began to breathe deeply, streaks of pink and yellow running from his mouth down his robes and the bottom of the couch. Sirius sighed. It had been many years since he'd had a Potter projectile vomit on him, and it was one thing he certainly didn't miss. Remus, at this point, was laughing heartily. Casting a quick _scourgify_, he cleaned the floor, the couch and then Harry.

Glancing at his friend, Remus asked him if he would like the same treatment, or if he'd prefer to do it himself.

"I don't have a wand! How the bloody hell am I supposed to cast a cleaning charm?"

"Point taken," responded Remus, and then he quickly finished ridding the room of any evidence of Harry's unwise foray into firewhiskey as a ten year old.

* * *

A few minutes later, the two of them had carried Harry to his bed. Carefully moving back downstairs, they avoided the sunroom as it still carried the unpleasant scent of firewhiskey and vomit that a simply _scourgify _could not remedy. Entering one of the various sitting rooms located on the ground floor of the manor, Remus sparked a fire in the large fireplace and it began to radiate a soft orange light. Sirius had been frantically whispering inquiries to his friend as they'd carried Harry up stairs and then on the way back down, but Remus refused to answer any questions until they were sitting down.

Sirius took a breath and began his interrogation. "Moony, please explain to me why you are okay with Harry getting drunk?"

Remus stared at the floor between his feet for a moment before leaning back and closing his eyes. "Sirius, Harry is not a normal child."

"Of course he's not. That doesn't explain anything, though."

"Can you listen for a minute, without talking?"

Sirius glared at him before reclining into his seat. "Sure. If you think you can give me a good reason that we just put a ten year old to bed after he vomited _firewhiskey_ all over me."

The only response was a weathered sigh. Remus stood and began pacing back and forth. He seemed about to speak, then reigned himself in to contemplate an explanation. Beginning to get exasperated, Sirius folded his arms and eyed his friend with a piercing look.

Remus halted in front of him. "Sirius, what do you know about time travel?"

This was obviously not what the other Marauder had been expecting. An apology, perhaps. A convoluted tale of the boy sneaking into the liquor cabinet or conspiring with the house elves would also have been acceptable.

"Very little, why?"

Remus rubbed his face and then ran his hand through his limp, graying hair. "Because, Harry is not really ten years old. He's our age. He's thirty-one."

Silence hung over the two before Sirius responded. "He said something about Horcruxes, right? While he was flopping around on that couch."

"He did," Remus agreed. "Harry, somehow, was sent back in time. Well, his mind was. His body is the same one you saw nine years ago."

More silence. Remus watched as Sirius worked his way through the idea that his godson was not the child he had last held the night of the boy's parents' deaths. At first, his face registered disbelief, and then he seemed to be about to speak before closing his mouth and delving back into his thoughts. Sirius gazed into the fireplace and watched the crackling flames, attempting to form his next question.

"How many people know?" he finally asked, without looking up.

"Now that you do? Five. You, me, Albus, Minister Bones and Bill Weasley. And Harry, of course. I suppose that makes it six."

"You're serious. This isn't some kind of prank?"

"No, I'm-"

"Moony, not now."

They both grinned, Remus a bit abashed, while Sirius showed the first signs of cheerfulness his fellow Marauder had seen since they had taken him from Azkaban.

The werewolf sat back down. "It's not a prank, Sirius. This is real."

"Did he have something to do with Minister Bones' sudden promotion? It's been a long time since a sitting Minister was voted out of office."

"He had everything to do with it. Fudge was ineffective at his best, and apparently he only got worse. When Voldemort came back in Harry's universe, the Ministry was almost complicit in his rise to power."

"Harry's universe?"

"Yes. I asked you how much you knew about time travel."

Sirius shook his head. "So, if he had come back and changed things, the future wouldn't have happened for him the way it did. Right?"

"Right. So, Albus deduced that we must be in an alternate universe. So many things have changed already, according to Harry, that there's no way events will occur in the same way."

"I guess he'd remember being a man trapped in a kid's body the first time around, huh?" Sirius grinned again, but it quickly changed to a grimace. "That still doesn't explain why you let him get drunk. Even if he is thirty-one, his body is still too young to be drinking. He could have hurt himself."

The look on Remus' face became exasperated. "Well, we just recovered one of Voldemort's Horcruxes tonight, that's where we were all day, and he decided he deserved a celebratory drink. I figured _one_wouldn't hurt."

"So what happened?"

"Refilling charm," said Remus. Sirius' mouth dropped open before he began to laugh. His guffaws and snorts lasted for several minutes, and by the time he was able to control himself, tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Oh Merlin! That's just like something James or I would have done when we were in school."

"I think it is _exactly _like something you and James _did_ do while we were in school." They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a time, neither wanting to lose the warm feeling of nostalgia that had come along with the memories. Both still missed James, and Lily greatly, and Sirius' chance to come to terms with the loss had been stilted by his imprisonment. It was hard to accept someone's death while reliving the reasons behind it multiple times a day.

Remus finally broke the silence. "You seem to be taking this rather well, Padfoot. I didn't believe any of it, at first. Why are you so calm?"

"Calm?" he almost yelled. "I'm not _calm_. I just got out of Azkaban, found out that James and Lily's son, my godson, is from the future, and Voldemort is still alive because he created a dark artifact so evil that even _my_ family didn't like mentioning them. The only reason I know what a Horcrux is, is thanks to the library at Grimmauld place. So I don't know how you expect me to act. Should I be ranting and pulling my hair out? What would you say?"

Sirius was standing now, pacing back and forth frantically, waving his arms as he spoke. Remus continued to sit, calmly waiting for the expected outburst to end. When there was no response to what had, in truth, been a rhetorical question, Sirius relented and lowered himself back into his seat. He looked up at the ceiling, as if begging for an answer to fall into his lap.

"Sirius," Remus began. "There's one thing you misunderstand. Voldemort created more than one Horcrux." This was met by a fish-like gaping from Sirius. "He created six of them, and there's a seventh piece of his soul still out there. We think it's in Albania, or thereabouts. We have to destroy all of them before we go after him, though." He held up a hand to forestall another outburst. "We know where they are, thanks to Harry. He destroyed them in his universe, and everything indicates the only difference between his universe and ours is Harry himself. The plan we've come up with is simple. We're going to destroy all of them and then wait for Voldemort to come to us."

"How many have you destroyed?"

Remus smiled. "Two, so far. Harry only became...aware...of the situation about a month ago. He woke up on his birthday and went straight to Dumbledore. The two of them know more about Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, as we're calling him now, than anyone else alive. Other than Riddle himself, obviously."

"Riddle? Voldemort?"

"His real name. He's a half-blood, actually. Father was a Muggle. His mother was one of the last descendants of Slytherin. Ironic."

"Yeah. Ironic." Sirius took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "So, the five of you have been going around destroying Horcruxes for the past few weeks? Not to mention overturning the Ministry, freeing prisoners from Azkaban and generally causing mayhem?" He grinned. "It appears we have a new Marauder on our hands."

Remus laughed at this. "Well, now there's six of us. Although, Amelia doesn't really have much time to be involved with the Horcrux part of the plan. She's more of an enabler for some other ideas we've had."

"What about the Weasley kid? I remember Gideon and Fabian's sister married a Weasley?"

"Right, that's Molly and Arthur. Bill is their son. The family took care of Harry during holidays in his universe. He married their daughter. That's what he meant when he said he had a family, earlier. His oldest son was named after you and James. James Sirius Potter, I believe."

That caused a grin to spread across Sirius' face. "Excellent name. Very nice. Did he have any other kids?"

Remus hesitated. He knew this was going to be difficult for Sirius to accept. "Um...yes. He had two younger children. A son and a daughter. Her name was Lily Luna...I'll explain the middle name later. She looked just like her mother."

Sirius beamed. "That's great, what about the boy?"

Remus coughed. "Well, his name was Albus. Looked just like Harry."

"Just Albus?"

"Well... Try to stay calm, okay?"

"Moony..."

"His name was Albus Severus, Sirius. After Snape." He waited for the explosion, but was surprised by the lack of a violent reaction. Sirius' eyes widened momentarily, then closed. He took another deep breath and shook his head.

"I guess there's a story behind that, huh?"

"Oh yes, there is quite a story. There's two more things I need to ask you about, but then I need to go to sleep. I've had an extremely long day."

"Okay..."

"I need you... We need to make sure that you never tell anyone anything you've learned tonight. About Harry, I mean. He'll probably be put out that I was the one to tell you, he really wanted to see your face," Remus smiled. "Unfortunately, thanks to the firewhiskey, you knew enough and I didn't want to leave you to wonder. I also did not want to have to obliviate you."

"_What?"_

"The four of us that know the truth about Harry all made an Unbreakable Vow to never discuss it with anyone else. He released us from having to keep it from you, but he still wants you to make the same vow. Not," Remus held his hands up in a placating gesture, "that he doesn't trust you. I think he probably trusts you more than anyone. It's just a precaution. Really."

Sirius nodded. "That makes a twisted kind of sense, I suppose. I'll do it. What's the second thing?"

"Well, the third Horcrux we can easily obtain. It's somewhere we need your help to get into."

"Where?" asked Sirius.

"Grimmauld Place. Regulus had it."

"Regulus? I had no idea he was so in-deep with the Death Eaters. Merlin, he must have been part of the inner circle to have been entrusted with that."

"No, Sirius," Remus shook his head apologetically. "Regulus renounced Voldemort and risked his life to destroy the Horcrux. They killed him before he could do so. But he managed to hide it before they found him."

Wide eyed at this admission, Sirius could only gaze blankly into space as he tried to comprehend the knowledge that his brother had abandoned the dark.

Finally snapping back to the present, he stood up and began to head for the door. "Where's that firewhiskey?" Sirius asked.

* * *

_Reviews? Pretty please?_

* * *


	7. Not Ready Yet

_Ah, Chapter 7. Enjoy it. This chapter is now beta-ed. The amaztacular Sushi Monster was kind enough to do so. Golf claps, everyone. _

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Some of it is JKR's. Harry waking up was inspired by _Bungle in the Jungle _by jbern. I know I mentioned it a few chapters ago, but go read that story. It's probably my favorite at the moment. Wish the sequel was updated quicker (hint). Not that jbern is reading my story...sigh._

_ That was kind of a long, rambling disclaimer, huh? On with the story. _**  
**

* * *

**Not Ready Yet**

Harry slowly woke up and opened his left eye. Then he closed it. There was someone in his room.

"Harry?" The someone spoke. He did not respond other than to pull his quilt over his head to block out the painful sunlight.

"Harry, are you awake?" The someone did not seem to understand his desire for sleep. Rolling over onto his stomach, Harry hoped that his actions would send the message. They didn't.

"Come on, Harry. Get up. It's time for lunch."

With an attempt at speech that came out a moan, Harry turned his head toward the someone who would not give him any peace. He immediately regretted it.

"_What_?" All he could make out was a blurry outline.

A chuckle caused Harry's head to throb painfully. "It's time to get up."

Harry clenched his eyes shut, again. "Where'r my glasses?"

"Er... I don't know. _Accio glasses,"_ said the someone.

A soft rustling reached Harry's ears, though it seemed much louder than he remembered any rustle ever being.

"Ah, here they are." Sounds of movement indicated the someone was advancing toward his bed. At the moment, Harry didn't care if it was Tom Riddle himself bringing him his glasses, he just wanted the throbbing in his head to stop. He was forcibly rolled onto his back as something cold touched his face. If he'd had enough energy, Harry might have reacted.

"Open your eyes, Harry. We need to go downstairs. Sirius is waiting for us."

The name sounded familiar. Or maybe it was just that he was in serious pain. He was having trouble focusing. Harry opened his eyes for an instant and then shut them tightly with a groan. The someone grabbed his hand and forced his fingers to wrap around something smooth and cool. Maybe glass?

"Here, swallow this. It will make you feel much better."

"Whaisit?"

"Hangover potion. Remind me not to let you get into the firewhiskey until your liver has had a bit more time to develop. Along with the rest of your body."

Another groan followed the mention of firewhiskey, and Harry tried to roll back over. The room didn't seem to spin as much when he laid on his stomach. Something stopped him.

"Watch out there. Don't spill that, it's the only dose we have in the manor. You don't want to feel like this all day, do you?"

With help from the someone he suddenly recognized as Remus, Harry forced himself into a sitting position and swallowed the potion, which immediately attempted to escape his throat and share his bed with him. He squelched the urge and gulped several times before taking a deep breath. Almost immediately, he felt a little better, though still miserable, and opened his eyes a bit to peer at his tormentor.

"Remus. Where am I?"

"In your bed."

"How did I get here?"

"Sirius and I carried you."

"What happened?"

"You were drunk."

"And?"

"And started ranting to Sirius about the Horcruxes, Griffindor's sword, Sirius being sick, and I believe your dislike of goblins. I might have confused that last part with your dislike of specific goblins. I'm not all that positive what you were trying to say, really."

Harry closed his eyes and flopped back into bed, pulling a pillow over his face. "I see. So, you told him?"

"I thought it would be wise."

"You're probably right. How'd he take it?"

"I didn't tell him everything, just the salient points. He took it better than expected, but he wants to know more, obviously...which is why he's waiting down in the kitchen for you."

"Why does my mouth taste like hippogriff shit?"

"I would think that would be fairly obvious."

"I was sick?"

"Yes. All over Sirius, in fact."

This caused Harry to brighten. "Really? Well, at least something good came out of it." Remus laughed while Harry slowly stood. "I think I'm going to wash up before I do anything else. Will you tell Sirius I'll be down in a little while?"

"I can do that. Are you going to be able to handle yourself, or should I tell Sarey to come help?"

"No, I'm fine. See you in a few minutes."

* * *

When the door to her office finally closed, Amelia sighed with relief. She'd just finished her fifth meeting of the day, and she hadn't even been at the Ministry an hour. Life as the Minster of Magic was both more hectic and less interesting than heading the DMLE. The ability to reshape the magical government into an efficient organization was satisfying, but the monotony was threatening to bore her to tears. Amelia Bones was not one for crying, though. She simply shut her eyes and took a deep breath, calming herself before calling for her assistant. 

"Ms. Alton, what's next?"

Her assistant, a young witch fresh from Hogwarts who had been recommended by Albus, bounced into the office.

"Headmaster Dumbledore is here to see you, with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin."

Amelia remembered seeing Albus' name on her schedule, but had been unaware that he would be bringing anyone else. With a guess that she knew what the visit was concerning, based on the wizards accompanying him, she rose from behind her desk and welcomed the three as they were ushered in.

"Minister Bones, thank you for consenting to this meeting. Mr. Black desired the chance to thank you for his release."

"Of course, Albus." She nodded to the other two men. "Remus, Mr. Black, a pleasure to see you again."

They nodded in response. "You as well, Minister," they said in unison.

Albus pulled his wand from his robes and quietly spoke a complicated incantation. A moment later, the wand was out of sight and the four sat across from each other.

"We may speak freely." Albus turned to Sirius. "The silencing charm will ensure we are not overheard."

The Minister sat with her hands folded, looking on expectantly at the three men in front of her. Her gaze quickly slid to Sirius Black. He looked considerably better than he had during the trial several weeks earlier. His hair was shorter, cut just above his shoulders. The eyes which had been sunken and glassy now shone brightly. He could still stand to gain a little weight, she thought, but overall his health seemed to have improved dramatically.

"Mr. Black," she began. "I assume that you wished to discuss the events of the past month?"

"I did, Minister."

"Please, call me Amelia. We are working together for more than just the betterment of this poor excuse for a Ministry."

"Only if you'll call me Sirius. I think we'll know each other too well to observe formalities, soon enough." He glanced around the office. It appeared to match the temperament of the woman in front of him. A simple wood desk without clutter sat in front of him. Some portraits on the walls added a bit of color to the otherwise empty room that reminded him somewhat of Hogwarts. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wouldn't be described by anyone as welcoming. Definitely all business, he thought. He refocused quickly when her response came.

"Indeed, Sirius." She looked at the other two wizards. "Albus, I received your Patronus stating you had obtained the Horcrux. What is the status of the ring?"

A pleased expression appeared on Albus' face. "It has been destroyed. Harry and William were able to contain some rather nasty traps that were protecting it. Prior to gaining entrance to the house, William and I were able to neutralize several other defensive spells that had lain dormant since Riddle placed the ring there."

Remus spoke. "Bill's knowledge of protective wards and curse-breaking is very impressive, Amelia. We were hoping you could offer him some temporary assignments working for the Ministry. To help out his family, you understand."

"Is this an idea from Harry?"

"Yep," said Sirius. "Said it would be less suspicious if the Ministry hired him than a 'private' employer. He wants to be responsible for Bill's salary, too. I think he was hoping to make it quite substantial."

"When is he due to go back to work? The goblins will not be pleased if we steal away one of their most promising young curse-breakers." Amelia was spending much of her time in negotiations with the goblins. Attempting to convince a race, mistreated for millennia, that the Ministry was sincere about a permanent peace was one of the most frustrating tasks of her new position.

Albus answered her. "William will be returning to Egypt in two days. He expressed a desire to remain there for a short time before being recalled to England."

"Harry wants him to stay with Gringotts, though," said Sirius, quickly. "He doesn't want him to leave the goblins, just split his time."

Remus continued the thought. "We think that having someone inside Gringotts would be wise. Similar to the way Bill, in Harry's universe, did during the second war. The fact that Huffelpuff's cup is still in the Lestrange vault also gives us incentive to have someone there."

Amelia frowned. "You understand that the Ministry has no say at Gringotts?"

"Absolutely," said Remus. "Harry believes that we should bring someone else into our trust. A goblin, actually."

"Interesting," she was surprised at this. Amelia had no personal animosity toward goblins. She knew that Harry was a huge proponent of enforcing equal rights for all magical beings, but was still caught off guard at the idea of trusting a goblin with something so important.

Sirius was still unconvinced. Harry, Remus and Bill only had time to brief him with an abbreviated version of Harry's life in the other universe the previous day. "I told him he was crazy, but he didn't listen. He's just like his father."

Remus sighed, the familiar argument coming up in the office of the Minister of Magic was not welcome. "Sirius, the goblins are as mistrustful of humans as we are of them, and with good reason. I think Harry and Bill know more about the situation than you do."

"If none of them trust us, why would they believe Harry? He looks like a ten year old kid, and they'll just think someone is putting him up to it."

"That may be, Sirius," interjected Albus. "But the fact remains that William has been working with goblins for over a year. Harry, in his own universe, interacted with them many times, more often than I have, in truth. He helped negotiate several treaties that, thanks to a knowledgeable Minister who respected them," he glanced at Amelia, "were maintained for longer than any past agreements."

"I still don't understand why Shacklebolt picked him for the treaty talks..." Sirius grumbled.

"They chose Harry because he was respected by Director Ragnok," Remus responded to the pout, quietly. Albus and Amelia ignored the two Marauders and began to plan out a way to return Bill to England permanently, without causing suspicion.

Sirius shook his head. "Why would the leader of the goblins respect someone who destroyed half of Gringotts?" With no penseive at Potter Manor, it had been impossible to review much more than their strategy to defeat Riddle and what had happened during Harry's school years.

"Harry will explain it later, Padfood. I promise. We need the goblins, and you know it."

Sirius grunted and they turned back to Albus and Amelia.

* * *

"I don't know, Bill. I don't think I'm ready for that, yet." 

Bill looked down at his friend. Harry had shown him several memories of his future, alternate universe family and their lives together. The sight of George, despondent and inconsolable for so long, had truly brought home to the oldest Weasley child the cost of the war that might be still to come. It scared him. True, the Weasleys had been less affected than many other wizarding families, but that brought no comfort. He wanted to be closer, able to visit with his parents at any time and to see off his brothers and sister at King's Cross each term. Bill thought the twins' store was a brilliant idea, and had been thinking of surreptitious ways to assist them in their chosen trade.

"Come on, Harry. You know you miss them."

Harry sighed. "Of course I miss them. You all were family. I just don't know if I will be able to...stay in character, you know?"

"That's all you're worried about?" said Bill.

"No, not at all. I'm worried about a lot of things. I'm worried about seeing Ginny again, and having to remember not to kiss her. I'm worried about seeing Fred and gawking at him."

"You didn't seem to have any trouble with seeing Remus or Albus."

Harry groaned and sat down where he stood, plopping onto the ground next to the Quidditch pitch at Potter Manor. They had just finished flying for a bit, when Bill had brought up the idea of meeting the Weasleys. Harry knew he would have to see them, eventually, but had been putting it off for as long as possible.

"I know it looked like I was fine when you 'met' me at Hogwarts, but that was different."

"How?"

"I knew I was going to tell you the truth. Do you think I wasn't screaming for joy inside? I literally had to hold myself back from assaulting Remus. You all know the truth about me, so I don't have to act like a kid around you. How am I supposed to pull that off at the Burrow?"

"Aren't you going to be acting like a kid at Hogwarts next year?"

"Yeah."

"Then it couldn't hurt to practice."

Harry sighed again. He knew Bill was right. Acting like a ten year old was going to take practice, but at least the excuse that he had been living in the wizarding world for several years would take care of one of his problems. He wouldn't have to act like a Muggle-born.

"But_ your_ family?"

Bill grinned at him. "Well, hopefully you won't have any desire to kiss my _nine year old_ sister. Fred and George will be at Lee Jordan's by the time you get to the Burrow, and I'll do my best to distract the others if you do mess up."

"It would be good to see them..." Harry trailed off, lost in thought. Half formed plans of how to improve the lives of his adopted family began to coalesce in his mind.

He snapped out of his daydream and noticed Bill had sat next to him on the short, manicured grass. "Have you thought about my offer?" Harry asked.

"I have. Tell me again why you think it's a good idea."

A few pieces of grass met their demise as Harry stalled for a moment. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I know you want to live in England." Harry began. "You always told me how, even though you enjoyed your years in Egypt, you missed your family. I know they missed you. Your mum was beside herself every time your name was mentioned."

"That can't be the only reason."

"Bill..." Harry hesitated. Trying to explain that by staying in England, Bill would be keeping his family safer was difficult. He decided to tell the whole truth and hope his friend took it with the spirit in which it was meant. "Let's go inside, and I'll explain on the way. I'm hungry."

They both rose and slowly headed back to the manor. The pitch wasn't all that far away, but at a lazy pace, the walk could be dragged out.

"I don't think you've been able to believe me on some things. Specifically, things related to you."

"Harry, you told me that I became one of the most skilled curse-breakers in Europe. That didn't happen until I was thirty, or so. Don't you think that requires a longer amount of time...you know, breaking curses?"

Harry giggled, then caught himself and cursed. "I hate sounding like a little kid. It's infuriating, sometimes."

They walked in silence for a minute before Bill spoke. "Is it weird, still?"

"Is what weird?" Harry asked. "Being a child?"

"Well, that...and being here. In the past. Your past." He shook his head. "I just never _really_ thought about what I'd do if I had a chance to do it all over again. It seems bizarre that you're handling it so well."

Harry started to respond. "I'm not really han-"

"That's not what I meant to say," interrupted Bill, shaking his head. "I mean, you seemed to know what to do as soon as you woke up in that house. Me? I would have sat there, scared and confused. You and Dumbledore put this plan together, and for some reason picked me to help out."

"I told you why, Bill. You're a damn fine wizard, and one of my best mates."

The redhead sighed. "The future me is. I'm not saying we aren't mates, but I really don't know you that well, still. You know things about me that no one else does, including myself. I'm just worried that if you slip up and don't realize that, especially around other people, things could spiral out of control."

"You're right." Harry didn't speak for a moment as he contemplated what to say. "I _do_ understand that you don't know me all that well. Really, I do. But, I also know that I can trust you with my life, and that's why we picked you. I would have happily had Albus bring in Ron and Hermione. And Ginny. But-"

"They're just kids. Real kids, not time traveling, universe switching facsimiles."

Harry snorted. "Right, exactly." He stopped walking for a moment and looked down. Bill paused when he realized he was strolling along by himself and turned around. Their eyes met. "Bill, I trust you. I know you doubt yourself, but so does everyone, some of the time. Albus doubts himself constantly, and so do I. We know you're a great wizard, and you'll only get stronger. Plus, I couldn't leave _all_ the Weasleys out of the planning. That'd be just as wrong as not telling Remus or Sirius. You are my family, no matter how well you know me."

A tinge of red crept onto Bill's face and he stared at the ground for a moment before responding. "Tell me more about the job."

"Right. Well, you'd be 'officially' working for the Ministry. Amelia said she would be able to arrange everything we need."

"What department?"

"Er...not a specific department, per se. You'd be on 'special assignment' working directly for the Office of the Minister."

Bill smirked. "That sounds awfully murky. What exactly will I be doing?"

"Well," Harry responded. "I wouldn't imagine that you'd be doing all that much. At least, not for the Ministry, itself. Albus and I decided it might be a good idea for your family to have a little more income. Amelia is planning to create a new Ministry department specifically related to Wizard-Muggle relations, and your father is at the top of the list to be the head. If he accepts, between you and Arthur, the Weasley family will never need worry about running out of Galleons. Something similar happened in...my future, but we decided the opportunity to begin elevating people known to be against that blood-purity crap was too good to pass up. A new Minister so overwhelmingly approved by the Wizengamot has immense power, and Amelia is very efficient at wielding it."

"Harry," Bill looked a bit frustrated. "My family doesn't accept charity. We'll have enough to-"

"Merlin, Bill! This isn't about charity. Your father is a brilliant, if somewhat unconventional, wizard. The only reason he has been held back for so long is due to the prejudices of the pureblood _elite_." Harry growled the last word. The lack of respect shown to the Weasleys in this universe, and his old one, grated heavily on his patience. At the somewhat humorous situation of a ten year old growling in anger, Bill started to laugh. The sound relieved Harry of his tension and he sheepishly grinned up at his friend.

As the two approached the manor, Bill once again asked what he would be doing in his new job.

"Are you interested in some training?" asked Harry.

"From who?"

"Albus and me. Remus and Sirius would be there as well. Remus hasn't done much magic in the past nine years or so, and Sirius..."

"Right," Bill understood that Azkaban was not very conducive to learning anything, except how to suffer.

"We'd also like you to try to maintain your association with Gringotts, if possible. That brings up something else I'd like to know about."

"Oh?" he glanced at Harry curiously.

"How much do you trust Rockspear?"

* * *

Remus and Sirius wandered through Diagon Alley slowly. Sirius was gawking at everything as if he were an eleven year old Muggle-born making his first foray into the magical world. The meeting with Amelia had lasted just over an hour, and Sirius had been hungry. Remus saw it as a good sign that his friend was, slowly but surely, returning to normal. His appetite had been stunted in the weeks after his release from Azkaban, his stomach shrunken due to the minuscule portions served at the prison. They'd satisfied his hunger at the Leaky Cauldron, where the surprised Sirius received well wishes and unsolicited apologies from most of the other customers. 

"Did you see that blond, Moony?"

"Yes, Sirius."

"She was _truly_ sorry about how much I suffered in that hellhole, don't you think?"

"Yes, Sirius."

The ex-convict turned around, as if to head back toward the pub they had just vacated. Remus grabbed him by the shoulder, smiling hugely.

"Sirius, she was a lovely young witch. I'm sure you'll be seeing her, and others like her, again, but don't you think it's time we finally got you a wand?"

Sirius' face lit up. He'd become accustomed to being without a wand for so many years, until he had finally been comfortable and healthy enough to wander the grounds at Potter Manor. That feeling of normality didn't last very long as Remus began taunting him about his lack of ability to cast any spells and threatening to jinx and hex him using several nefarious charms.

The two Marauders swiftly marched toward Ollivander's and entered the small, dusty shop. Mr. Ollivander was, as usual, no where to be found. Remus moved over to the small waiting area that consisted of a single chair and a copy of the Daily Prophet. He looked at the date. _December 12th, 1988. _Shaking his head at the nineteen month old paper, he glanced around for Sirius, spotting his friend poking at some of the wands stored in the first row of shelves. Quietly, he rose, silently stalked up behind Sirius and, without warning, smacked him with the paper on top of the head.

"AH!" Sirius jumped and spun around, eyes wide. When he regained his composure, he gave Remus a sour look. "Was that really necessary?"

"You shouldn't be snooping around like that."

A ghostly voice from behind caused them both to jump. "It's quite alright, Mr. Lupin. The wand _does_ choose the wizard. Mr. Black would not have found what he was looking for on that shelf, in any case."

Remus and Sirius glanced at each other almost imperceptibly before the withered old man began to speak again.

"You wish to purchase a new wand."

Sirius nodded in reply, but said nothing. Ollivander continued. "Your old wand was destroyed. Pity. It was a good wand, quite effective for charms. Oak and dragon heart string, ten and a half inches. One of my more unique combinations."

"I didn't really have much say in the matter," he lamented.

"No doubt. No doubt." The wandmaker, who was disturbing Sirius with his unblinking eyes, began muttering to himself as he turned his back to them and wandered off. After several minutes went by without the old wizard reappearing, Sirius turned to Remus.

"Any idea what's going on?"

The werewolf shook his head. "No idea, Padfoot. No ide-"

"Here it is! A most wonderful combination of wood and core." The reentrance of the wandmaker once again startled them both.

Sirius put his hand to his chest and sighed melodramatically. "Merlin, you're going to kill me! And just out of Azkaban, too... The injustice of it all..."

After Remus quieted him, Mr. Ollivander handed him the new wand. Smiling as he held it, Sirius barked out a laugh as the wand trembled in his hand for a moment before spilling out a shower of red and gold sparks.

"Excellent!" Mr. Ollivander exclaimed. "I crafted that wand specifically for you, Mr. Black, as soon as I knew you had been freed. Birch with a core of Aethonon tail hair. Eleven inches. It should be quite effective."

Both of them stared at the wandmaker in shock. They'd never known the man to make custom wands for a wizard without one having been ordered. It was certainly odd.

"Excuse me," said Sirius. "How did you know...I mean, why..."

"You will have tasks, Mr. Black. No one can say what they will be, but Mr. Potter will require as much assistance as you and the others can provide. Great challenges await you all. You must be strong, together. That will be seven Galleons."

Speechless, Remus pulled out a pouch of coins and handed over the necessary payment. Sirius settled for staring open mouthed, his new wand hanging limply in his hand.

A few minutes later the two of them were walking to Gringotts and had yet to speak. When they reached the entrance to the goblin bank, Sirius stopped and turned to Remus.

"What the hell just happened?" he whispered.

"I don't understand it, either." Remus answered in the same low voice.

"Did any of you talk to him about it?"

"Not that I know of. Ollivander's always been a bit off, though."

"He knows! Moony, this is crazy. How could he know if we've all taken an Unbreakable Vow? Did Harry or Dumbledore tell him?"

"I honestly don't know. I suppose they could have when Harry got his wand..."

Resolving to discuss it with Harry when they returned to Potter Manor, the two entered the bank to sort out the Black family account, which had laid dormant since the death of Sirius' mother.

* * *

"He said what?" asked Harry. 

"Great challenges await us all," answered Remus.

The five of them sat in the sunroom. Sirius was thankful that it had been aired out, and that Sarey was a much more efficient house elf than the worthless Kreacher inhabiting Grimmauld Place. It was still mid-afternoon and the sun was beaming down onto him through one of the skylights.

"He said something similar when I accompanied Harry to purchase his own wand," said Albus, who had arrived after being informed of the wandmaker's curious prediction.

"Do you think he knows?" asked Bill.

Harry shook his head. "There's no way he could know. Albus was the only person who knew anything before the vow, and he assures me that he told no one."

"That is correct," confirmed Albus. "I have spoken to no one, other than the four of you here and Amelia, of Harry's situation. Mr. Ollivander has often mystified me in the past with his knowledge of events he has no connection to. He is truly a puzzling man. All my attempts at legilimency have been unsuccessful, as well as unremarked upon."

"You tried legilimency on him?" asked Remus.

"Indeed. Several of his comments during the war made me quite suspicious, but none of his actions have led me to think he ever took a side. He is, perhaps, truly neutral in the fight between light and dark. It may be the most advantageous position to have, as a wandmaker."

"Do you think he's a seer?" said Harry. He was leaning forward with concern. Divination and prophecies had not been kind to him in the past, and the thought that this new universe could be adversely affected by his appearance left a small knot in his stomach.

"I do not know. It is frustrating, I must admit. All conversations with the man result in riddles and questions. I have tried several times in the past to determine what he knows, without success."

Harry grinned smugly to himself at Albus complaining about someone speaking in riddles and questions.

"It's not like it matters, right?" Sirius spoke up for the first time and all eyes were on him. He blinked and cleared his throat as they waited for him to elaborate. "I mean, 'challenges await you.' Of course challenges await us. I just got out of Azkaban, Harry just got his first wand, and Remus has reentered the magical world for the first time since forever. I don't think it's that bizarre that the man is aware of these things happening."

"How did he know which wand would be mine, though?" interjected Harry. "He didn't even bother testing me for one. He said I knew the wand that seeks me, and then handed me the same one I used in my universe. He knew that _I_ knew it. That isn't a coincidence."

Silence fell over the five of them as they contemplated the behavior of Mr. Ollivander.

"Well," Bill finally stated. "There's nothing we can do about it, is there? If he knows something, he knows. If Albus couldn't get any information from him using legilimency, or questioning him, I don't see what else we can do. If he's really neutral, he won't run off and tell any Death Eaters, and I don't see him volunteering the information to anyone else."

"I would have to agree, William." Albus pulled a small bag of hard chocolate candies out of his robes and offered them around. After everyone but Remus declined, he took one himself and put them away. "Now, on to other business. I spoke with Nicolas and Perenelle. They both agreed that the chance to destroy Riddle once and for all is of crucial importance and have agreed to let me protect the Philosopher's Stone inside of Hogwarts."

The others sat up a bit straighter at this news. The school term began in only a few days and this would be the last chance for Albus to meet with them without attracting attention to himself, unless there was an emergency.

"Is that going to give Quirrell enough time to join up with Riddle?" asked Harry.

Remus looked at him. "Didn't you say he was already in Britain?"

"I _think_ he is. I don't know for sure."

"We will have to assume that he is," said Albus. "It is my belief that Riddle has been with Professor Quirrell since he returned from his sabbatical in July of last year."

"Have you already moved the stone?" asked Harry.

"It is hidden in the chamber beneath the third floor corridor, protected by the Mirror of Esired. That was a fantastic idea, Harry. I must thank you again."

"It was your idea in the first place. I just...reminded you of it before it could occur to you."

Sirius asked the question that had yet to be brought up. "So, if Riddle shows up at Hogwarts wearing his lovely new turban, how exactly do you plan to capture him? Isn't he a spirit, or something along those lines?"

"I will do my very best to capture the shadow of Riddle without harming Professor Quirrell. I have several ideas, but no definitive measure that I consider foolproof."

"It's not like a Horcrux, Sirius," added Bill. "No one has any experience dealing with something like this. We're just going to have to trust Albus to do what he thinks will work."

Harry huffed. "Albus, why do you insist on protecting Quirrell? He might as well be a Death Eater."

"I do not believe that to be the case."

"You can't be willingly possessed! I understand you think you can save him, but this is far more important than one man's life."

The other three younger men were nodding their heads in agreement. Albus' eyes lost a bit of their usual brightness and he sighed. "Harry, it saddens me to say you may be correct, though not all wizards are as strong willed as you. If there is a way to protect Professor Quirrell without compromising our goal, I will endeavor to do so. If there is not, I will not hesitate to use whatever force I deem necessary. I will not, however, end a man's life simply for the _greater good. _Will that suffice?"

At the mention of the term, Harry blanched. Acknowledging his friend with a tightlipped nod of acceptance, the others looked on in confusion at what had transpired between their two leaders.

"That sounds fine, Albus. I apologize."

"Quite alright, Harry. Please do not trouble yourself."

"Right."

Sirius threw himself back in his seat on the couch and moaned. "I spend nine years in Azkaban and get out, just to throw myself into a new war against a stuttering professor, led by a ten year old. Merlin! I need a vacation."

The others chuckled softly. Albus popped another candy into his mouth before speaking. "Sirius, perhaps after we retrieve the locket from your family's home, you can travel for a bit."

"That's a great idea," said Harry. "It's not like we'll have anything to do in England for a while. It's going to take Amelia months to gain traction with the goblins."

"What about the Diary?" asked Remus.

"Too many members of the Wizengamot still respect the Malfoy family name to begin searching their home," responded Albus. "We may need to wait until Lucius is removed from the body before taking any action against him."

"That settles it," Harry slapped his hand down on the table. "Where do you want to go?"

"Actually," said Albus. "I think it would be wise to begin your journeys in Egypt, if William would agree to accompany you."

"Right," Bill agreed. "Rockspear. I think we'll probably need a few days to convince him. You can go wherever you want afterwards, though."

Remus smiled. "I've always wanted to see the pyramids."

"Bill's leaving the day after tomorrow. Can we get the locket by then?" asked Sirius.

"Why not?" Harry answered. "We can go tomorrow, if you're up for it."

"I'm fine with destroying the Horcrux. I don't think I really want to see my mother's portrait, though. She was crazy enough before she died, I can't imagine what six years stuck in a house with only a deranged elf for company has turned her into."

Harry grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Don't worry. One of the best things about being from the future is that I know some tricks no one has thought of here in the good ol' present."

Bill glanced at Remus and Sirius, who were sharing a look. "That sounds...interesting."

The other two seemed to communicate without speech for a moment before Sirius spoke to Harry. "Okay, but if you destroy the portrait you have to take care of Kreacher, too."

* * *

_A/N - I know this was dialogue heavy...but it is also my shortest chapter, so work with me here. I wanted to do a bit of character development and...well, I was feeling talkative._

_ Let me know if it was at least fairly interesting. Reviews are a great way to share your thoughts, so be thoughtful...it's the kind thing to do._

_ So, for reals, I will probably not be updating until 2 weeks at the earliest. I will be working about 50-60 hours a week for the next 2...weeks. Then I have a week off, so if things go according to plan, I will probably bang out 2 or 3 chapters during the week off (fingers crossed).  
_


	8. Sitting with the Dog

_I'm sorry!!! I know this took way too long, but I was busy and lazy and writer's block and...well, the main point is I'm lazy. But, here it is. Chapter 8. Thanks to kehlencrow and johnnydicaprio for betaing. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own anything. Do any of us? If you do, is it really in the best interests of humanity? Perhaps you should consider joining a commune. If you live in my home state of Texas, don't forget to vote in 2 weeks. If you live in Ohio...just...just stay home. You've caused enough trouble already. _

* * *

**Sitting with the Dog**

The next morning found Remus and Sirius standing in the park across the street from number 12 Grimmauld Place. A light rain fell as the two stared quietly at the house where Sirius had spent the first sixteen years of his life.

"How much longer?" asked Sirius.

Remus glanced at his friend and shrugged. "It shouldn't be long. Harry said he and Bill would be here after breakfast with the Weasleys."

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" asked Bill as he swung his bottomless leather satchel over his shoulder. 

Harry shook his head. "Not really. Are you?" he responded with a grin.

The idea that Bill was leaving, for what his family still thought to be an unspecified amount of time, would have already wound up Molly Weasley into a tizzy. Both of them stood in front of the main fireplace at Potter Manor, floo-powder in hand, mentally preparing themselves for the coming confrontation.

Harry motioned toward the flickering fire with his free hand. "After you, good sir."

"Right," responded Bill, who didn't spare a glance for the unusual formality. He had become used to some of Harry's eccentricities over the past month.

A minute later, the two of them stood in the Burrow as Molly helped them brush the ash from their robes.

"Bill! Stop fidgeting. You're getting soot all over the floor." She turned to Harry and paused a moment as her eyes flicked toward his scar before welcoming him as well. "You must be Harry. I admit I was a bit skeptical when Bill told me he was bringing you over for breakfast, but it looks like you're really here. Welcome to the Burrow. That's what we call our home, here. Why don't you go out front? I know Ron and Ginny are eager to meet you."

All of this was said as Molly brushed the last bits of soot out of his usual tangles of hair and gave him a gentle push toward the front door. Bill was held back, and the last thing Harry heard was Molly admonishing her son. "I can't believe you brought Harry Potter here! The house is a mess!"

Harry smiled and strode out the front door, stumbling at the sight of Ron and Ginny playing exploding snap at the picnic table. Ron was almost exactly as Harry remembered him from their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express. Visions of their first few years at school before his honorary brother began shooting up in height assaulted Harry. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the past roll over him.

A sudden silence distracted him enough to reopen them. He locked gazes with Ginny. Both of the Weasley children were staring at him, mouths hanging open. Ginny gaped at him for a moment, her gaze flickering between his forehead and his eyes. A moment of realization caused her to squeak and stare directly at the ground. Harry could only see her ears, but if they were the same shade of red as her face, it would be hard to tell where her hairline began.

Ron's reaction was so very Ron-like that Harry thought he was back in his old universe for a moment. After gaping for a moment longer than his sister, Ron quickly stood up and scampered toward him.

"Blimey! You're Harry Potter!" The redhead stopped an arms length away and had some trouble tearing his eyes from Harry's forehead. His childlike, high pitched voice almost made Harry snort with laughter.

"Yep, nice to meet you. You're Ron, right?" Harry held out his hand.

Ron seemed guided by instinct as he grabbed the offered appendage and shook it wildly. "Yeah! Ron Weasley. This is my sister, Ginny. She's not usually this shy. Ginny? Ginny!"

The younger girl finally looked up, her face as red as Harry had predicted. Her attempt at a smile didn't reach her eyes, which were darting back and forth as if searching for an avenue of escape. Harry smiled gently and walked over to her. Reaching down to shake her hand, their eyes met again and Harry saw hero worship warring with humiliation. His plan to try to get her over such awkwardness was about to be put to the test.

"It's really great to meet you two. Bill has been telling me all about your family. I've been wanting to meet you all for a while now." He released Ginny's hand and glanced around at the Burrow and the surrounding property. "This place is brilliant! Is that where you guys play Quidditch?" Harry asked, pointing toward the makeshift Quidditch pitch near the orchard.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Ron. "Do you play?"

"Yep. Bill's got my broom shrunken down in case you wanted to fly around a bit after breakfast."

Harry smiled at the look of pure joy on Ron's face. He knew that joy would increase exponentially when Bill pulled out the other shrunken brooms contained in his satchel.

* * *

"What's this?" asked Sirius, who was sitting on a bench in the park across from his, as of yet, unopened house. 

"Coffee," Remus answered. He sat down heavily next to his friend and opened the plastic lid, taking a small sip.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Remus contemplated the effect that entering the old house would have on his friend a month removed from Azkaban. Sirius was staring at the cardboard cup pensively, and Remus assumed the former convict was having similar thoughts until he spoke.

"Moony?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you drink this? The only hole is too small to..."

Remus laughed, causing Sirius to scowl at him. He grabbed the cup from him and opened the small plastic flap, folding it over until there was an opening just large enough to sip from.

"Wow!" exclaimed Sirius. Remus handed him back the cup, but twisted and squeezed the top almost imperceptibly as Sirius took it back.

A few seconds later, as Remus was calmly taking a drink, he heard the results of his action.

"Ah! What the hell! Moony! What happened? Merlin that's _hot_!"

Remus glanced over and saw Sirius brushing the steaming coffee off of his cloak and pants, his face and hands already red from the hot liquid that had spilled all over him.

"It seems that the lid wasn't attached correctly... Do you want me to go get you another one?"

Sirius stood and stopped trying to get burning coffee off of himself and settled for wiping his face off before turning to a smirking Remus.

"You did this."

"Me?" Remus projected an air of confusion.

"Yes, you," Sirius pointed a dripping finger at him, causing a stray drop to land on Remus' pants leg. "Fix it."

"How?"

"Clean me!"

Remus sighed and retrieved his wand from his new wrist holster that Harry had insisted they wear at all times. A few moments and a _scourgify_ later, Sirius' clothes were clean and other than some reddened skin and the pleasing aroma of gourmet coffee, there was no trace of the spilled drink other than the empty cup at their feet.

"It wasn't me Padfoot, sometimes these muggle drinks aren't put together right. That's what you get with a bunch of teenagers working there."

"Sorry, Moony. I'm just a little wound up right now."

"It's fine. Should I get another one? You can come with me and make sure the lid is on tight."

"No," mumbled Sirius as he sat back down. "I'm awake now. The coffee did it's job just fine," he said with a scowl.

He never saw the mischievous smile on Remus' face.

* * *

"Minister, Arthur Weasley to see you for your ten o'clock appointment." 

"Thank you, Ms. Alton. Send him in." Amelia moved the stack of parchment she had been reading to the side and slid her monocle into her pocket. Arthur Weasley strode in a few seconds later. Amelia rose and walked around the desk to greet him, guiding him into one of her visitor chairs. She then took a seat in the one next to him, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"Minister?"

"Arthur, please call me Amelia when we're alone. We've worked together for what, now? Fifteen years?"

"Alright, Amelia. What's going on?"

"Well, I'll get straight to the point. I have a proposition for you. We'd like you to head up our new Muggle Relations Department. It would come with an increase in salary, and all personnel and departmental decisions would be at your discretion. Within reason, of course. The only drawbacks are that your hours would certainly increase, as would the workload." She waited for his response.

Arthur stared at her for a moment, then watched as her face turned from serious to slightly amused at his non-reaction. Finally, he spoke.

"What?"

Amelia chuckled. "Arthur, your work for the Ministry has been outstanding since you first started. I think you're being woefully underutilized in your current position."

"Since when does the Ministry have a Muggle Relations Department?" he asked.

"Since now, if you accept the position. Some of my advisors believe that you are the best wizard for the job, and I'm inclined to agree with them." Amelia stood and walked around her desk, picking up a thin folder with several sheets of parchment inside, then walking back to Arthur and handing him the summery of what was expected from the new department. She sat down and waited for him to read the departmental summary.

Arthur opened the folder and flipped through the pages, glancing at some of them a bit longer than others, mumbling to himself.

"Increased participation...muggle/wizard relations...Ten Downing Street...Merlin! Official notification of Muggle government leaders? Amelia, is this real?"

"Indeed, Arthur. Did you read the last page, yet? I think that should be convincing. That is, if you're unsure about assuming the new position."

Arthur shook his head. "No, no. I'd be happy to take the position. Thrilled! I've been waiting for something like this since before I joined the Ministry. Never thought it would happen, of course. Why is it happening, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind at all. Questions like that are one of the reasons we feel you'd do well in this position. So many wizards and witches lack the ability to ask the simple questions that would prevent pointless misunderstandings."

Arthur nodded in agreement, glancing down occasionally at the folder in poorly disguised desire to learn more.

Amelia continued. "With some knowledge of how Cornelius ran the Ministry, and the increasing number of Muggleborns and half-bloods that are entering wizarding society, we feel that it is in the best interests of both the magical and non-magical worlds to work together."

He was nodding, his fingers tapping the folder in his lap thoughtfully. "I agree with you, Amelia, but how are you getting this past the Wizengamot? Surely they won't approve such a department with so many pureblood advocates."

"That, Arthur, is one of the reasons we are doing this now. With my election so recent and, I say this with all possible modesty, overwhelming, I have some political capital to spend. At least that's what my advisors say," she finished with a grin.

"Do you know if you have the support you need?" he asked.

"Albus Dumbledore, as well as several prominent Wizengamot members, have already given me their support on this. I don't think we should have too much trouble pushing it through a vote. The fact is, we won't be sharing the full range of efforts that your department will be undertaking until after it's already been established."

Arthur's face changed from slightly shocked to an almost predatory grin. "That's very...Slytherin of you, Amelia. And you say Albus Dumbledore has approved this?"

"He has indeed. He's actually a strong proponent of it. So, do you have any questions? Need time to think this over? An explanation of your new salary and duties in on the bottom sheet in the folder."

He pulled that sheet out and read it through. His eyes widened and by the time he was finished, his head was shaking side to side, unconsciously.

"That much? Amelia, this is almost five times my current salary. I'm already a department head."

"No, Arthur. I don't think you quite understand. This isn't a new sub-department. This is a full department, equal to the DMLE, with sub-departments and offices to be created beneath it at your discretion. You'll also have an honorary seat on the Wizengamot, representing not only your department, but the Muggle government as well. If you agree to the terms, I'll have Ms. Alton bring you a full brief."

Amelia smiled widely at the shocked expression on her subordinate's face. After a few moments, he composed himself and took a breath.

"This sounds amazing. I need to talk it over with Molly, but I don't see any reason why I wouldn't take the position."

"Excellent." She stood and held out her hand to Arthur. He rose as well and took it, sealing his agreement with a shake. Amelia turned toward the door and waved for him to join her. "First things first. We should go visit the Muggle Prime Minister. He's expecting us around ten-thirty, I believe. I've been in contact with him for the past week, and I think by now he is almost comfortable with people walking out of his fireplace."

* * *

The rain had finally stopped and Remus had finished his coffee. Sirius, no longer distracted by the throbbing of his scalded hand, had reverted to brooding while staring at number 12 Grimmauld Place. Remus glanced at him occasionally out of the corner of his eye as he tried to come up with a way to distract his friend without injuring him. Again. 

Suddenly, Sirius turned to him and spoke. "Don't you find this unbelievable?"

Remus started. "Huh?"

Sirius waved his hand in a circle. "This. All of this. Harry, time-travel, Voldemort?" He sat back and stared back at the house. "It just seems a little hard to...I don't know. It's too bizarre."

"You haven't seen the pensieve memories, yet. Trust me, it's all real. And does Harry act like a ten year old?"

"No," Sirius admitted. "It's still unbelievable, though," he grumbled.

Remus couldn't help but agree. Even Albus had said the same thing during one of their sessions of viewing Harry's memories. Sirius had only known the truth for a few days, and had been told very little about the future not to come.

"How did I escape Azkaban?"

Remus sighed. "I don't know. Harry doesn't really know. You...you died before you could really talk to him about it."

Sirius let out a sharp laugh, though there was little humor in it. "I can't believe Bellatrix killed me! What a miserable death."

"It's better than rotting away in Azkaban."

"Too true. Too true." They were silent for a moment as Sirius contemplated his time in the wizards prison. "Moony, how did I meet Harry?"

"Which time?" Remus asked.

"In his universe."

"The Ministry thought you had escaped to kill him, when you were going after the Rat. That's a memory you should have Albus show you. It was quite spectacular when Harry rescued the two of you with his Patronus."

"The two of us?"

"Fudge had ordered you kissed, and once Harry knew the truth he had to travel back in time with a time-turner to rescue you. I don't think I've ever seen a Patronus that strong. It was about three times bigger than Prongs."

"Prongs?" Sirius was confused.

"When_ I _taught Harry the Patronus charm, it turned out to be a stag. Even before he knew about James' animagus form. It was amazing." Remus breathed out the last part, thoughts of their lost friend brining up his emotions as they always did.

"I don't remember a lot from the last month, Moony, but I remember a big cat. Not a stag."

Remus stared at him, eyes wide. "You're right. He didn't mention anything about that. Something must have happened after the final battle. We'll have to ask him when he gets here."

Sirius slumped back onto the bench. "Whenever that is. Breakfast doesn't usually take three hours, does it?"

"We'll have to take you to the Weasleys' when we get back to England. When Molly is cooking, you _want_ it to last this long."

* * *

Four_ Nimbus Lightnings _and their riders swooped to the ground as Molly Weasley clutched her chest. Ron and Harry were laughing in an adrenaline induced fit of giggles while Ginny jumped off of her own broom and ran into Bill's arms shouting "Thank you! Thank you!" over and over. Bill smiled hugely and picked his youngest sibling up and threw her over his shoulder. As the foursome walked up to the house they spotted Molly and started to slow. Bill placed his sister gently back on her feet. 

The Weasley matriarch stalked over to her children and guest, a look of fear etched on her face. "William Arthur Weasley! I can't believe you let these children fly that recklessly! I almost had a heart attack watching you four diving around, almost crashing! What would Harry's parents th..." She clapped her hand over her mouth, a look of horror on her face. Ginny inhaled sharply as she looked over to the subject of her bedtime stories for as long as she could remember. Ron stood gaping at his mother, unable to connect the look of regret on her face with the howling rage from just seconds earlier.

Bill's expression went from shocked to angry to understanding in the space of a few seconds while Harry only held his breath and looked at the ground. He did his best not to smile or laugh at the woman he considered a second mother, knowing that she would be chastising herself for days.

The anger was forgotten. "I'm so sorry, Harry dear. I...I just worry."

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. Really." Harry looked at her and gave her his best carefree smile, hoping she wouldn't feel too much shame for her words. They were, after all, spoken with care toward a child she had just met. Harry was, once again, awed by the Weasley family's capacity for love.

"Mum, don't worry about it. Harry here is in good hands with Remus and Sirius. He understands."

"Oh, my boy," Molly gushed. "You are so well-mannered. You're welcome here anytime. Maybe you'll rub off on my children. Merlin knows they need some lessons."

"Mum!" Ron and Ginny shouted in consternation.

"Well, you do!" she responded with a small smile. "You two go clean up for lunch. Are you staying, Bill?"

"It's time for lunch?" asked Harry, locking eyes with Bill. They both grimaced and then started laughing at the same time. "Sirius is probably going spare right now. I wonder if they've started hexing each other yet."

"We need to get going, Mum. We're meeting Harry's guardians at Sirius' old house. Should have a while ago, actually." Bill shrunk his and Harry's brooms as the three of them quickly walked back to the Burrow, following the youngest Weasleys who sprinted up the stairs. Bill placed his siblings' brooms on the porch, propped up against the wall, and retrieved his satchel and pulled out six more _Lightnings_, making a line of eight. His mother gasped.

"What is this? Did you buy brooms for the whole family?"

Bill nodded. "Yep. Even Percy. And you and dad. Make sure the twins get these before you go to the station. And tell them to take care of them."

"Bill..." Molly looked unsure.

"Don't worry, Mum. Money isn't a problem anymore. Minister Bones offered me a new position in the Ministry, and I'm still going to have work with Gringotts. I'll probably be in England more often than not, too."

"Oh Bill!" Molly rushed to him and tried to squeeze the air from his lungs. Harry, standing behind Molly, smirked at his friend's face, which appeared to be turning purple. Bill glared at him. That look changed to a smug smirk as Molly turned and gave Harry the same treatment.

"I'm sorry again, Harry. And please, feel free to come by whenever you want. You're always welcome here."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley! I'd love to."

Ron and Ginny bounded down the stairs and saw Bill and Harry standing next to the fireplace, floo-powder jar in hand.

"You're leaving?" Ron asked.

"Yes, Ronald," answered Molly. "They're meeting Harry's guardians for lunch."

"Oh." Ron looked disappointed, as did Ginny. When Harry walked over to say goodbye, Ron shook his hand. Ginny blushed brightly, but didn't look down and gave him a hug then ran off into the kitchen.

Molly tried not to laugh at her daughter, while Bill coughed to cover his own laugh. A minute later, Harry and Bill flooed to The Leaky Cauldron. They needed to pick up a few things in Muggle London before heading over to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

"Moony. It's been almost four hours! Where are they?" Sirius whined. 

Remus shrugged in response. "No idea, Sirius. You feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, just a little hungry. Lunch?"

"I think there was a sandwich place next to the coffee shop. Do you want to come?"

"No, I'll stay. They might show up while you're gone." Sirius settled back and tried to find a comfortable position. The tingling feeling that told him his left buttock was asleep had been growing stronger for the past thirty minutes or so, but the thought of dealing with Muggles was a bit too much at the moment.

* * *

Prime Minister Samuel Winthrop was having what could only be described as the most bizarre week of his life. On Monday, a large brown owl had appeared at the window of his office at 10 Downing Street. It had pecked at the window incessantly for just over an hour, though he couldn't hear it due to the bulletproof glass. The next day, one of the portraits in his office had disappeared. The frame was still hanging on the wall, and the background was still intact, but the old, unidentified man that had glowered at him since he taken office had vanished. 

Wednesday had been perfectly normal when he woke up. After making a pot of tea, Samuel sat on his back patio, enjoying the warm summer morning. The same owl which he had seen at his office then swooped down and perched itself on the chair next to him. His shout, as well as the crash of his chair falling backwards and his teacup shattering, had brought one of his bodyguards running. As he appeared on the patio, gun in hand, the Prime Minister's bodyguard Terrance had confirmed that nothing beyond an accidental chair tipping and tea spill had occurred before turning to the owl.

The owl and bodyguard had stared at each other for almost a minute, neither blinking, while Samuel picked himself up as fast as his sixty year old body would allow. He watched as the owl shook its leg at Terrance. There seemed to be something stuck to its leg. Samuel had a burst of thought relating to owls not normally being present during the day, but his musing was interrupted by Terrance.

"Owl for you, sir."

Samuel Winthrop was not a master orator. However, he was known as a Prime Minister who could think on his feet, hold his own with foreign leaders, and occasionally talk himself out of a political jam.

"Eh?" he asked, glancing between his bodyguard and the owl, which was now hopping along on the table, rattling the teapot.

Terrance walked up to the owl, slowly, and reached for its leg. The owl hooted once, seemed to ruffle its feathers a bit, then calmed down and allowed the younger man to grab the...thing...attached to its leg.

Terrance unrolled the parchment and noticed it was addressed to the Prime Minister. Handing it over, he thanked the owl.

"Are you waiting for a response?" he asked it.

The owl hooted once and, in a burst of brown motion, hurtled itself into the air.

Samuel looked at the envelope in his hands, rubbing his fingers over its rough texture that felt nothing like the bleached, paper cut inducing material they used in his office. Not that they used owls, either.

"What's going on?" he asked, bewildered.

"I can't say, sir. Perhaps the letter..." Terrance trailed off.

"Right. That should be all. Thank you, Terrance."

As his bodyguard left the terrace, Samuel opened the envelope and read the letter that appeared to be from some woman calling herself the 'Minister of Magic.' It stated that he should wait in his office until ten o'clock that evening to receive a message from this 'Amelia Bones.'

That night, he had spoken to a painting. That had been odd enough, but then his fireplace had burst to life with green flames, out of which stepped a woman dressed in some sort of robes and wearing a monocle. She looked to be about his age, maybe a bit younger, and had a small smile on her face.

"Prime Minister Winthrop. A pleasure to meet you. My name is Amelia Bones. I believe you received my owl this morning?"

He stared at her, and then at her outstretched hand, before nodding quietly. Her smiled widened a bit as she dropped her hand and stood in front of his desk. As the two of them sat, Amelia pulled out a small glass bottle of liquid that seemed to alternate between a golden brown and a dark red. It reminded him of cough syrup he used to give his children.

Their meeting had been quite informative. At first he had thought her insane, with stories of magic and a hidden community that existed within their everyday world. After she had pointed out her method of travel, and then demonstrated several minor feats of magic, he had thought _himself_ insane. The 'firewhiskey' she'd brought seemed to help.

Thursday had brought a second visit by Minister Bones, who had instructed him the previous night to tell his staff not to disturb him between noon and two o'clock. During those two hours, she had given him a crash course in the structure of the wizarding government and a short history of the wizarding world. It was a bit much to take in.

The two days after that had brought shorter, if no less unbelievable, meetings between the two Ministers. She had explained her desire to create a department in her government to widen relations between the magical and non-magical worlds. Occasionally she used the word Muggle, which Samuel found somewhat insulting.

Now it was a week after his first encounter with the world of magic. Standing in front of his desk were two people. Amelia Bones, who he was still wary of, the other was a middle aged man with red, receding hair who was looking around the office in wonder, a beaming smile on his face.

"Prime Minister Winthrop, may I introduce Arthur Weasley. He will be the head of our Muggle Relations Department, hopefully starting tomorrow."

Having almost grown used to the wizarding term for what Samuel still considered the 'normal' world, the Prime Minister attempted to take this new development in stride.

"Mr. Weasley, a pleasure." Nodding his head enthusiastically, the red haired man held out his hand, which was taken into a firm shake before the three of them sat down.

"So, this 'Muggle Relations Department.' Do you know how you intend it to be run, Mr. Weasley?"

"Arthur, please."

Samuel nodded. Amelia answered his question for him. "Arthur was just made aware of the department's existence. He'll be hiring staff and organizing his offices for the next week or so. I just wanted the two of you to meet. He'll be our main contact with you and your government. You may think of him as my representative, if you'd like."

The three of them spoke for just under two hours. As Arthur questioned him on the structure of the non-magical government, interspersed with questions about the desktop computer, lamp, intercom and ball-point pens, Samuel grew more at ease. The man's natural geniality and inquisitiveness were hard to dislike, even if some of his inquiries and assumptions were a bit eccentric. His own feelings toward wizards changed from apprehension to curiosity, and he invited the new Director of Muggle Relations to stop by in the next few days so that they could exchange more knowledge.

After they left, Samuel wondered to himself about getting an owl.

* * *

Sirius belched loudly. The trio of pigeons that had been fighting over the bread-crumbs Remus had been tossing at them flew off noisily, startling them both. 

"Merlin, Sirius. I think you rattled the windows down the street," said a voice from behind their bench.

The two Marauders turned to find the person who had just spoken and spotted Harry and Bill walking up to them.

"Dammit, Moony. I thought I just heard a beautiful woman. I guess it was just Harry. We'll have to get used to that until he hits puberty, huh?"

"I suppose so," said Remus. Harry scowled at Sirius while Bill grinned at the banter.

"So," said Bill. "Are we going to go get the Locket, or just sit around in the park all day? I can go get a picnic ready..."

Sirius stood up and stretched. "We've been waiting here for hours. Where have you been?"

Harry answered his growling godfather. "Playing. I'm a kid, remember?"

"Hard to forget with you being so short," Sirius shot back.

"Sirius..." Remus tried to calm his friend down. Harry grinned at both of them while Bill just shook his head at the sight of a werewolf trying to calm down an ex-convict who was being riled up by a ten year old. And he had thought working with goblins in ancient Egyptian tombs was odd.

The four of them headed across the street and walked up the cracked stairs to the front door of number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Do we need a key?" asked Harry.

"You don't know?" responded Sirius.

"Why would I know? It's your house."

"Well, you've done this before, right?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I wasn't with you...before. Maybe it'll open for you. You are the last Black, after all."

Sirius walked up to the snake styled door handle and pulled. Nothing happened.

"Got another plan?"

Remus spoke up. "Try your wand."

Sirius glanced around, making sure that no Muggles were watching them, before he tapped the handle with his wand. Yet again, nothing happened. He tried several unlocking spells without success before turning back to Harry.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We could call Kreacher. He should respond to you, even if he doesn't like it. You're his master now," said Harry, though he whispered the last part.

Sirius sighed. "Do you know how much I hate that elf?"

"We know, Sirius," said Remus.

"I hate him more than anything, except for my family. And Voldemort-"

"Riddle," interrupted Harry.

Sirius continued. "Riddle, the Rat..."

"Okay, that's enough people for you to hate, Padfoot. We understand you don't like him, but he's probably the only way we can get into the house," suggested Remus.

"Kreacher!" shouted Sirius. A flicker of a curtain from number 13 Grimmauld Place indicated he had yelled too loudly. The four of them waved with fake smiles pasted on their faces until the neighbor retreated. When the curtain closed, a quiet _pop_ heralded the arrival of Kreacher. He looked worse than Harry remembered from his 'old life,' as he had started referring to it.

"Criminal Master calls Kreacher?" wheezed the filthy and stooped over elf.

"Kreacher, open the door so we can get inside."

"Master wishes to befoul his family's home with half-breeds, mudbloods and blood-traitors! Mistress will be ashamed. Such disappointment..."

After reviewing old memories of Kreacher, Harry wasn't surprised by his attitude, which was so different from the Kreacher who had served his own family for fifteen years. Sirius hadn't seen any of the memories of what Kreacher could become, and had only been told a small bit about Harry's future life. Because of this, the combination of a crazed and bigoted house elf and a recently dementor-free Sirius was not pleasant.

"I order you to open this door, Kreacher. Now!" Sirius hissed.

Grumbling under his breath, the elf obeyed his master. Once the five of them were inside, Bill closed the door behind him. When the latch closed, Sirius struck out. He kicked Kreacher with as much force as he could, sending the ancient elf down the musty and filthy hallway, where he crashed into the door of the kitchen with a thump.

"Sirius!" shouted Harry. "Stop!"

The look his godfather had on his face when he turned around was menacing. The three of them couldn't seem to meet his eyes.

"I lived with this miserable excuse for an elf for sixteen years. Every action he's taken, every word he's spoken, gives me good reason to do whatever I can to make him suffer."

Harry took a calming breath as Remus and Bill waited for him to speak. "Fine, Sirius. Just...just wait until we have you-know-what and then you can execute him if you really want to. Please give him a chance, though. He can't help the way he is."

Sirius didn't respond other than turning away and ignoring the elf that was stumbling back toward them with a limp.

"Harry," said Remus. "Where is it? Which room?"

"It's upstairs. Let's go."

They passed a set of curtains in the hallway. Kreacher sidled to their left and ducked underneath the dusty, moth eaten coverings. Harry heard him mumbling and knew that in a moment, things with Sirius were going to get even worse.

"Traitors! Half-breeds! Muggle filth! Who befouls the most noble and ancient House of Black!"

Harry groaned quietly as Bill tried to hold the curtains closed. The magic was too strong for him, though, and they ripped apart to show the portrait of Sirius' mother, Walburga Black. Sirius, somewhat similar to the curtains, was being held back by Remus. Despite his lyncathropically enhanced strength, he was also unable to hold Sirius back.

"My son! Disgrace to the family! You shame your family name by returning here with such foul beasts!"

"Hello, mother," whispered Sirius, dangerously. He raised his wand, readying a curse, before Bill grabbed his arm. Without altering his gaze, Sirius slowly lowered his arm and simply spat onto the portrait. This only caused the echo of his mother to scream louder.

"Come on, Sirius. Harry and I got something that should take care of her. Let's go get the Locket and we'll take care of it after." Bill gently guided him down the hall.

Kreacher had shuffled behind them during the confrontation with the portrait and Sirius turned to the elf as they reached the foot of the stairs. "Kreacher, I order you to stay here. Do not go anywhere. Don't even move. Just stay here."

The elf looked as if it were in pain as it responded. "Yes, master. Kreacher will stay."

"Good. Let's go."

Dust floated into the air as the four of them trudged up the dark staircase. Remus and Sirius illuminated the tips of their wands with a _lumos_ while Harry and Bill kept an eye out for any uninvited guests in the house, be they creature or wizard. Sirius stalked forward in front as they reached the top of the stairs. Harry had to call to him that the room they were looking for was another floor up.

A few minutes later, the foursome arrived in a dank room with a ceiling covered in cobwebs.

"Bill, we should bring Ron here when we get back to England."

Bill was glancing around the room, searching for any sign of traps or defensive spells left by the late occupants. Finding nothing, he turned to Harry and grinned maniacally. "I think that's a splendid idea, Harry."

"What are you two on about?" asked Sirius in a flat tone that indicated he was still frustrated about how his return to his childhood home was proceeding.

"Pranking Ron," responded Harry.

Sirius didn't say anything else, but it seemed like the tension in the room had eased substantially.

Harry approached the drawer that contained Slytherin's Locket and cast a detection spell over it, just to make sure. When nothing registered, he slid it open slowly and motioned for Sirius to hold his lit wand over the various objects inside.

Sitting near the back, half hidden by what appeared to be a Muggle bow-tie, was the Locket. Harry's elation at having found the third Horcrux without difficulty caused him to drop his guard as he grabbed it and pulled it from the drawer, dangling it from his fingers as he turned around to present it to his companions. A grey blur put an end to his joy as Kreacher flew toward him, digging his fingers into Harry's face.

The sudden attack caused Remus and Sirius to pause in shock. Bill, who was used to such unanticipated reactions while removing treasure or relics, reacted immediately as he grabbed the elf around the neck and flung it across the room.

Harry dropped the locket and fell to his knees, clutching his face. Blood seeped between his fingers as Remus knelt down next to him, whispering gently and trying to cast temporary healing spells while simultaneously urging Harry to move his hands. All Sirius could hear was his godson moaning in pain as he turned to his house elf.

Kreacher slowly got to his feet, discolored bruises forming on various parts of his body from his flight across the room, as well as Sirius' earlier abuse. Bill and Sirius had both turned to face the elf, standing shoulder to shoulder, with Remus behind them seeing to Harry's injuries.

"The Locket..." Harry moaned through his pain.

Sirius, Bill and Kreacher all eyed the small golden ornament at the same time. Bill was the first to act, diving toward the Horcrux. Kreacher popped across the room at the same instant, a beat too slow as Bill's hand clutched the Locket in his fist. With a howl, Kreacher waved his hand and then snapped his fingers on both hands, sending Bill into flight across the room before he crashed onto the top of a cabinet, shattering the mirror that sat atop it.

With his back to his owner, Kreacher didn't notice Sirius bend over until his throat was wrapped in the infuriated man's hands. Squeezing as tightly as he could manage, Sirius tried to choke the elf, or break its neck, whichever came first. Kreacher didn't react other than to glare at his master with an equally strong hatred. After a moment of a hate filled staring contest, Kreacher popped away again, appearing at Bill's feet, where the curse-breaker was slowly attempting to steady himself.

The elf began to claw at Bill's pants, scratching at his legs and shredding the cloth that covered his left pocket. Sirius darted over and kicked Kreacher as hard as he could, aiming for his head, but hitting him in his small gut instead. He helped Bill stand, and the two of them backed up to where Remus was still treating Harry.

Bill attempted to cast various containment spells and charms at the house elf, to no effect. Sirius simply sent _reducto _after_ reducto_at their attacker. Kreacher simply raised his hands, causing the curses to swarm around him, as if in orbit, before they dissipated.

After several minutes of the elf making their strongest attacks completely ineffective, Bill started to sag and sway from side to side. Harry, through his pain and the spell work being done on his face by Remus, recognized that his friend was beginning to suffer from magical exhaustion, which meant his godfather, still suffering from the after effects of more than a decade of constant exposure to dementors, wouldn't be far behind. He grasped Remus' wrist and attempted to stand.

"Help me up," he directed.

"Harry, you're injured..." said Remus, the concern plain on his face.

"I need to get up, help me."

With a sigh, Remus pulled Harry to his feet and helped steady him.

"Sirius," Harry attempted to yell at his godfather, but it came out only a bit louder than a whisper. Regardless, Sirius heard him and looked back for an instant.

"You okay, Harry?"

"Order him, Sirius. Order him!"

Sirius nodded, and with one final curse shouted at his house elf. "Kreacher, I order you to stop! Sit down, now!"

Kreacher had no intention of stopping, even as he knew the magic that bonded him to Sirius was quickly killing him because of his disobedience. However, the power of the order caused him to hesitate just long enough to Harry to cast the necessary spell.

"_Deputo per haud misericordia_!" he shouted with as much power as he could muster in his state. A glowing red spell that made the hair on the back of Sirius' neck stand straight up flowed from Harry's wand, catching Kreacher directly in the face. The elf shone with a sickly red radiance before he froze in place. With one final glare at the four humans in front of him, Kreacher's head fell from his narrow shoulders, followed by his arms. What was left of his body quickly separated from his legs and each fell in opposite directions. There was no blood.

After a moment, Bill fell to his knees and held himself up with his hands. Remus checked him quickly before confirming that Sirius was uninjured and then returned to Harry.

"We need to get you to St. Mungo's," he said quietly.

"Fine, fine. Bill needs to come too. Mrs. Weasley is going to be angry."

Bill glanced up and chuckled as he slowly, and with great effort, rolled himself onto his back. He reached into his pocket and handed the Locket to Sirius.

"I think you should take this to Albus. Remus can take us to Mungo's, just meet us there," said Bill, before closing his eyes and apparently losing consciousness.

Sirius nodded, put the locket into the pouch they had brought for the purpose and disapparated on the spot for Hogsmeade.

"Can you walk?" Remus asked Harry.

Harry nodded and wandered over to Bill, cast an _ennervate_, and offered his hand. With a grunt, the much taller Weasley pulled himself up with assistance from Harry and Remus and the three of them slowly made their way down the stairs.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the random politics in the disclaimer. It's my passion :) _

_Also, this is NOT a Harry/Ginny fic. Really. She's 9, folks. NINE. Harry is not a pedophile. Really. There will likely be no romance for Harry in this story. I like Ginny, as I have a thing for redheads myself, but when two people's age combines to be 40, and one of them is 31, that's just not going to happen in my story._

_And sorry if you like Kreacher. I enjoy his antics as well, but that's the way it is._

_Don't forget to review! _

* * *


	9. In Other Words

_Disclaimer: If I could steal the rights to Harry Potter, I would. Just saying. _

_ Ok, here's the deal. I was not happy with the last chapter at all. I don't know how thrilled I am with this one, but we'll see what I think in the morning. It's really short. By far the shortest chapter I've written, but I've decided I'm not going to hold myself to certain lengths or update times. So I might update with a new chapter in three days, and then another three weeks after that. It's going to be that way, because if I force myself to write on a deadline...the already questionable quality of the story will suffer :)_

_Alright, enough of that. Thanks for the reviews everyone. They're awesome! I can't get over how many I have. Thanks so much. _

* * *

**In Other Words**

It was Harry's day off. After a year as Head Auror, any free time was met with a sense of relief, matched in intensity only by his children's desire to make sure he had no time to actually relax.

He was sitting in the sunroom of Potter Manor, reading. Ginny had decided to take a nap after breakfast. Her third pregnancy had hit hard, and seven months into it she rarely went more than a few hours without resting for a bit. Kreacher was watching James and Albus out back. Albus was still learning to walk in a straight line, so Harry wasn't all that worried about him wandering off.

Kreacher. Harry shook his head fondly. When he had first met the elf, the idea of leaving him alone with his children would have been ludicrous. Letting the elf live had also been in question after Sirius had fallen through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. But, as Harry had been forced to acknowledge many times, things change. The gift of Regulus' locket had caused such a complete transformation in the ancient elf that it had barely been surprising when Kreacher had led the charge out of Hogwart's kitchen against the Death Eaters during the final battle.

A sudden _pop_ caused Harry to look up. A bloodied Kreacher, holding a stump where his right arm should have been, caused Harry to fly out of his chair and disapparate into the backyard instantaneously. He spotted the charred remains of Kreacher's arm, obviously spell damaged, and scanned the lawn, searching for his sons. He found nothing.

With a wave of his wand and a tersely spoken _Expecto Patronum _several glowing misty silver stags burst forth and flew in various directions. Harry summoned his broom and immediately took flight, rising high enough to see the nearest town, almost ten miles away. He frantically flew back and forth for a minute and, seeing nothing, returned to the manor. Within seconds, three telltale cracks of apparations accompanied the arrival of Ron, Bill and George Weasley.

Bill was the first to speak. "Harry? What's going on?"

"They're gone! Someone took James and Albus, and attacked Kreacher." Harry motioned to the burnt appendage. He started pacing, but before he could make a full circuit of the portion of the yard set aside for the children, Ron grabbed his arm.

"Harry, did he see anything?" he asked.

"What?" Harry was still looking around frantically.

"Kreacher," said Ron. "Did he see anything? Does he know what happened?"

"Kreacher!" yelled Harry. The injured elf appeared, hunched over and shaking. Kreacher started toward them before stumbling a bit and falling to his knees. Regulus' locket bounced against his chest. Bill rushed forward and gently forced him onto his back, running a diagnostic spell before staunching the bleeding.

"Kreacher, what happened?" Bill had to wave away Harry, who was being held back by Ron and George.

"Man and woman appear. Man take Master James and Master Albus. Woman send fire at Kreacher." The elf had to pause as it coughed for a moment, and Bill noticed the scorch marks covering his face and chest for the first time. Spotting the arm and knowing it was lost, he turned to George.

"Go to Mungo's. Get a medi-witch and bring her here. We'll find out what we can and search for the kids when you get back."

George nodded and disapparated. Bill turned back to Kreacher, who was wheezing lightly with every breath.

"Kreacher. What did they look like?" asked Bill.

Kreacher coughed again, then moaned softly before answering. "Man...man tall. Woman be short, thin." He coughed again, then continued. "Both wear black. Short hair. Angry." With a sigh, Kreacher's large yellow eyes rolled back and the elf went limp.

"Kreacher!" screamed Harry, torn between the desire to know more and concern for his friend and servant.

"He's alive, just unconscious," said Bill, attempting to calm his brother-in-law.

"He said we're looking for a man and a woman, dressed in black with short hair," said Ron. "Could they have disapparated away?"

Bill shook his head as Ron let go of Harry, who ran over to the broom shed. "No, only people keyed into the wards can apparate on the property. And I set these wards to cover the entire property, including the forest. The only way in or out would have been on foot."

"They can't have gone that far, let's go," said Ron as he accepted a broom from Harry. A louder than normal _crack_from a side-along apparation resulted in George and a medi-witch having three wands pointed at their faces. The witch gulped noticeably at the sight of three of the most well-known wizards in Britain aiming at her before she scurried over to the immobile house elf.

They shared Kreacher's description with George as the four of them mounted brooms and split into pairs. At that moment, four additional_cracks_announced the arrival of the aurors. Harry sped over and gave them the description and their orders before rejoining the Weasleys. The four of them sped away into the air.

Bill and George entered the woods to the east while Ron and Harry headed directly south. The trees thickened as they flew deeper into the forest. Harry mumbled under his breath constantly, distracting Ron to the point where the red head almost flew into a branch.

"Harry, what are you doing?" yelled Ron into the wind.

"Tracking spell," answered Harry, absently. He said nothing more. Harry's concentration on finding his children fueled his frantic pace, and he avoided all obstacles without a noticeable effort. Ron was having trouble keeping up.

Each time Ron noticed Harry's mouth moving, they seemed to change direction. Ron sent his terrier Patronus to his brothers while following closely behind the distraught father. Without warning, Harry pulled up on his broom and braked, almost causing Ron to collide with him.

Before Ron could say anything, Harry pointed. Ron gulped and tried to keep the bile from rising in his throat. About fifty feet in front of them were two bloody masses that no longer resembled bodies, but couldn't be anything else. Harry shot forward, and though Ron hesitated a moment, he followed almost immediately.

They slowly hovered over what appeared to be the remains of two Death Eaters. Ron shook his head and chanced a look at Harry, who was swearing under his breath.

"Harry? Are those Death Eater masks?"

Harry shook his head once. "No, just copycats. Happens a few times a year. We have a file on most of them." He ran his hands through his hair. "Where the hell are my kids?"

Ron floated over and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's float around. If James and Albus used accidental magic like this, they're probably scared and hiding."

George and Bill dove down at that moment, startling Harry into pulling his wand on them. With a sigh, he lowered it and explained the plan.

As the four of them slowly floated in an expanding circle around the two mutilated bodies, Harry began to sink into a sense of dread. The sight of torn robes, slashed skin and chunks of flesh missing didn't seem like any sort of accidental magic he'd ever heard of, especially from children as gentle as his sons.

A sound made its way to the foursome's ears that closely resembled sobbing. Bill was the first to react and immediately spun his broom around and careened into the thick growth of trees behind them. The other three were right on his bristles. The large black animal curled around a crying James and a concerned but apparently very curious Albus made Harry blanch. Ron was stunned, his mouth opening and closing every few seconds. Occasionally a noise that suspiciously resembled a whimper escaped his throat. After a few moments to establish the boys were unharmed by the extremely large feline, Bill and George glanced at each other and started snickering, doing their best to keep from disturbing the animal.

Harry glided down carefully, landing a good distance away from his children and the animal that appeared to be protecting them. Logic had finally worked itself through the shock and he realized it had not been a case of accidental magic that had dispatched the would-be kidnappers.

The three Weasleys landed a few feet behind him, shooting concerned looks at each other. Ron had still not shut his mouth.

James caught sight of his father and ran as quickly as his little three year old legs could carry him. Harry fell to his knees and let out a breath, tears streaming down his face as he realized his sons were unharmed and safe.

Albus, still a toddler, pulled himself up using the fur of the huge cat as leverage. He fell back with a look of childlike frustration before trying to push himself back up again. The cat moved his head toward the boy, resulting in the three remaining adults aiming their wands at the beast. It huffed in a way that almost sounded amused before nudging Albus in the back, helping him to his feet. Albus waddled forward carefully as Harry beamed. He let out a short laugh and picked James up and placed him on his hip. As he approached Albus, he leaned to one side and picked him up as well.

He turned to the three red heads with a smile on his face and a child on each side. They grinned back at him and then Ron let out a sigh and bent forward with his hands on his knees.

"Blimey, Harry. Why does this stuff always happen to you? It's starting to get ridiculous, mate." Ron shook his head and stood straight before a look of terror crossed his face.

Harry felt a push to his back and felt something warm and wet blow across his arms. Turning slowly, he realized he was looking straight into the face of the animal that he suspected had violently rescued his children from the would-be kidnappers. A glance at the bloodied bit of cloth stuck in its teeth confirmed his guess.

The four adult humans tensed, and Harry took a step back before Albus spoke.

"Kitty!"

The black beast moved toward the boy and before Harry could move, stuck out its tongue and licked Albus' face. Even Ron could feel the purring from his position several feet away. It reminded him of the car engine his father had been working on for the past several years with vibrations oscillating every time the creature took a breath.

After a moment to absorb the surprise of such a large wild animal being friendly with two children, Ron grabbed his godson and placed him on his broom. Harry did the same with Albus as the six of them took flight, aiming north for the manor.

They arrived soon enough to find two aurors standing guard. Ginny was sitting on the ground with her mother, leaning into the older woman as she sobbed. Harry landed next to her and she looked up with swollen eyes and a red face. When she saw Albus she began sobbing again as she embraced her firstborn son. Molly looked up at her son-in-law with a glowing smile which was reinforced when Ron brought James over.

The medi-witch walked up to Bill and spoke a few quiet words, then stepped away before dissapparating. Bill glanced at the wounded house elf and then made his way over to Harry. At the questioning glance he received, Bill motioned his friend away from his wife and children before speaking.

"She said Kreacher is too old to survive these kinds of injuries. He probably won't last the day."

Harry shook his head and sighed. Bill placed a comforting arm around his shoulder and the two of them walked up to the injured elf, who was lying face up. His injured arm was wrapped, but Kreacher's face was drawn and haggard. Harry looked sadly down at the elf that had served him and his family for ten years, and fought against Voldemort for even longer. He was as much a hero as Dobby, and even though it would be yet another oddity about him that people would puzzle over, Harry knew he would honor Kreacher as highly as any wizard he had known.

"Master," Kreacher wheezed when he felt Harry approach. He didn't open his eyes, and Harry could tell how much effort it took for the elf to speak.

"It's okay, Kreacher. Don't talk."

"Master," the elf began again, disobeying an order from his Master for the last time. "Young Masters...alive?"

"Yes Kreacher, they're fine. You...you did great. Thank you for watching over them." Harry knelt down on the grass as Bill stepped back and returned to the rest of his family.

"Kreacher could not," he winced and shuddered. Harry placed a hand on his bony shoulder before the elf continued. "Kreacher could not stop enemies of the family. Kreacher failed Master."

Harry smiled sadly. "Kreacher did not fail. You did everything right. You're a great elf. James and Albus and all of us are safe."

Kreacher shuddered again and his closed eyelids squinted tight in pain. Harry felt the shaking elf still and watched as the agony left his face and turned to an empty expression that almost resembled sleep. He closed his eyes and willed Kreacher's soul, damaged and abused for so many years, to accept peace in the afterlife.

He then stood and walked toward the aurors, who were standing around awkwardly. The two that had been missing when Harry had returned had shown up and all four were waiting for the Head Auror to give them orders.

"Robins, Simmons, fly south about four hundred meters. There's two bod..." Harry paused, then corrected himself. "The remains of the two kidnappers are located there. Also, there's a large cat that I think is probably responsible. It seems friendly. Looks like a black panther or something similar. I think it's probably magical. Regardless, be cautious. Try not to injure it unless it attacks you."

"Sir!" Simmons interrupted with a point. Harry spun and spotted the large black panther slinking up to them. Several wands appeared from both the aurors and Weasleys before Harry shouted.

"Stop! Wands down!"

Bill, George and Ron all grinned a bit at how protective Harry was being toward the animal that had saved his sons. Ginny gasped when she spotted it, then had to hold on to Albus who was squirming in her lap, shouting, "Kitty!" with a huge smile.

Harry walked out slowly, his hands open and face up, and approached the animal. It saw him emerge and seemed to grin as its body relaxed and its tail, which had been swishing along the ground, rose up into the air and flicked excitedly.

As Harry approached it, the suspected panther began to purr again, and the rumbling seemed to calm the distraught wizard. He reached a hand out and stroked the cat on the head between its ears. In response, it seemed to imitate a smaller house cat as it fell to the ground and rolled on its back, exposing its stomach. Harry grinned and beckoned the Weasley's to approach.

"That's a big cat," stated Ron. George smacked him in the back of the head as Bill snorted.

"Thanks Ron," said Harry. "It's good to know living with Hermione all these years has increased your observational skills."

Bill and George laughed at their younger brother who only huffed once before grinning himself. "Well," he asked Harry. "You gonna keep him?"

* * *

The five of them exited the pensieve into the headmaster's office. Harry glanced at Sirius. "That's why I was pissed that you were abusing Kreacher." Sirius began to say something before Harry turned away and spoke to Remus. "And that is why my Patronus changed. Kreacher lived with us after that, and came almost everywhere he was allowed. Scared the hell out of some people." 

Remus gave him a crooked grin. "I would imagine."

"You named a magical panther after a house elf?" asked Bill.

Harry nodded. "We never figured out exactly what he was. I'd swear he was magical, because he could definitely understand what we were saying. He also seemed to know what we needed or when we were going somewhere, and suss out any...unsavory characters."

"Are you saying my family's house elf was reincarnated into a magical cat?" sputtered Sirius.

"I do not believe that is the case, Sirius," said Albus, who had moved to his desk during the conversation. "There have been reports from throughout history of magical animals coming to someone in need. Fawkes, for instance, appeared to me during a time of great stress during the war with Grindelwald. He has not left me since. Also, my Patronus is indeed a phoenix, just as Harry's is a representation of Kreacher."

Sirius rubbed his face and sat down. Bill joined him as Albus offered them a dish full of Skittles. Harry and Remus stood over the pensieve, glancing down into it as Harry retrieved his memory.

"Why haven't you shown us much from your life after the war?" Remus asked him quietly.

"It wasn't important," responded Harry. "Everything I showed you was background information. It all had something to do with defeating Riddle."

Remus sighed. "I understand that, Harry. I...we," he waved to indicated the other three who were chatting about their scheduled holiday. "We all want to know about your life after the war."

"Why?" asked Harry. "It's not real, anymore. This place and time is where I live now. And I can never go back."

"Does that bother you?"

Harry shook his head, slowly. "Not as much as I would've thought. The first few days were difficult. But, after I... After what Fawkes showed me, it got easier. I miss the kids, sometimes."

They were interrupted by Sirius laughing at something Bill had said and wandered over to the others.

Albus gazed up at them with a smile splitting through his beard. "It seems that Bill is ready to depart for Egypt whenever the three of you are ready."

Sirius stood. "I'm ready now! Bill has been telling me about some of the witches that Gringotts employs. He said he'd set me up." Harry's godfather was grinning stupidly.

Harry and Remus, knowing that Gringotts didn't employ female curse-breakers, glanced at Bill. The redhead gave them a conspiratorial wink.

"I guess it has been about twelve years since you had a date, Padfoot," said Remus with a smile.

"What?" asked Harry, with a smirk. "Sirius was only in Azkaban for nine years."

"That's true," responded Remus, tapping his chin with his finger.

"Oi!" shouted Sirius. "And when was the last time you were with a woman, Remus? And you haven't been in prison for the last decade, either."

Remus blushed as Harry and Bill laughed at them. Albus looked contentedly amused as he pulled out a brass doorknob.

"Here is your portkey. I created it myself, so it will take you farther than a standard Ministry portkey."

"To where?" asked Bill.

"You should arrive in Rome's portkey terminal. An acquaintance of mine will provide you with a similarly charmed portkey which will take you to Cairo. I believe you can arrange transport to Gringotts' Main Camp from there."

"That's great. Thanks Albus," said Bill. The four of them said their goodbyes to the headmaster as they left the office. Harry was the last to the door, and turned around before leaving.

"Albus. I know you've faced him before but, even in his current form, Riddle is extremely dangerous. Don't underestimate Quirrell, either."

Albus nodded sagely. "I have no doubt you are right, Harry. I will plan accordingly. I shall send Fawkes with news as soon as I have confronted them."

"Be careful."

"Indeed. You as well, Harry. Have a wonderful holiday."

* * *

_Alrighty...there it is. Shortest chapter I've written. Hope it was okay. I believe I've said it before, but I have most of the story planned out. That said, I'd love to hear (er...read) any ideas you awesome readers have. And sure, this might be a sly way to get reviews, but you can PM them to me as well...I'm not too picky. I just love feedback. :) _


	10. So Close, So Far Away

_Disclaimer - Ka!_

_Betaread by Snuggle the muggle and johnnydicaprio. Thanks ladies. And a happy belated Women's Day to all._**  
**

**So Close, So Far Away**

It was hot.

"It's bloody hot!" complained Sirius.

It was very hot.

"We are in the desert," said Remus. Sirius sneered at him.

The Sahara Desert was very hot. Being summer, it was especially, blisteringly hot. Sirius was not pleased. "I think this may a situation where cooling charms are useful, guys," mused Harry, who was waving his wand over himself as he walked ahead of them. The two Marauders took his advice and did the same while Bill and Harry shared a smirk.

They walked toward the main tent of Bill's assigned camp. Though the actual location had changed in the weeks since he'd left for England, it was the same collection of wizards and goblins Bill had left at the end of July. As they strolled down the makeshift path between an assemblage of khaki colored magical tents, small groups of curse-breakers and their goblin supervisors could be seen through half-open flaps. Some were talking, but the rest seemed to be doing their best to stay cool by keeping as still as possible.

When they approached a large, gleaming pure white tent that was noticeably bigger than the others, Bill stopped and turned to them. "Okay, guys. This is Stonenick's tent. He's the head goblin for the camp. He has no sense of humor, so please just..." Remus and Sirius were nodding already while Harry just grinned deviously. Bill sighed and shook his head forlornly. "Just don't talk. Or move."

The foursome entered the tent, with Bill leading the way. Without warning, Bill came to a sudden halt. Harry stepped to his side, but Remus stopped right behind him, causing Sirius, who had been glancing around the interior of the tent, to walk into the werewolf's back.

"Sirius!" Remus hissed.

"Why'd you stop?"

Bill would have chastised them for immediately disregarding his instructions, but he was too distracted by the gleam in his mentor's eyes. Rockspear stood to the side of Stonenick, who was seated in a plush armchair sized for a goblin. The feral grin on the goblin's face terrified the novice curse-breaker. Stonenick remained expressionless as his gaze shifted to each of the newcomers.

"Mr. Weasley," began the head goblin. "You have brought guests. Rockspear informed me when he received your letter that you would be bringing three wizards with you."

"Yes I have, Stonenick," Bill stepped to the side and motioned for his friends to come forward. They did so and looked toward the goblin, waiting for him to speak. Harry was the only one adhering to proper protocol, standing stiffly with his hands clasped in front of him and staring at a point in space just above and behind Stonenick. Remus shifted his weight from foot to foot, staring between the two goblins. Sirius nodded to the goblins and then looked to Bill, who was trying not to wince. He hadn't expected a formal greeting and hadn't thought to instruct the others on proper behavior. The expression on Rockspear's face was also worrisome.

After several moments of intense scrutiny from the head goblin, Stonenick stood and nodded. "Proceed, Mr. Weasley."

Rockspear waited until the older goblin had exited the room for his personal quarters before chuckling. "Well done, William. At least one of your friends is familiar with goblin greetings. Interesting that it would be one who is so young."

Harry relaxed his posture and unclasped his hands as he grinned at Rockspear. "You are Rockspear? Bill has spoken well of you."

"I am, indeed, boy. William, you have brought a recently-freed convict, a werewolf and the most famous child in the wizarding world. May I ask what exactly the situation is that has brought the four of you here?" Remus stared at the goblin open-mouthed. "Yes, Mr. Lupin," said Rockspear in response to his look. "The goblins are well aware of your affliction. Believe me when I say it matters not to us." The statement effectively shocked Remus into closing his mouth. A hint of a smile played across Bill's face as Sirius snickered at his friend.

Harry stepped forward and bowed, preparing to address Rockspear. Before he could open his mouth, however, the goblin began laughing. "Surely William has spoken to you of my disdain for traditional customs. You need not treat me any differently than you would a wizard while we are not in the presence of Stonenick or any other senior goblin."

At this point, Bill was smiling widely. It was now Sirius' turn to gape at the goblin. "Mr. Black, I assure you, I feel no ill-will toward your family for their past misdeeds. As most of them are dead or incarcerated, their past does not affect our present."

Sirius only nodded and turned to Remus. The two stared at each other for a moment, eyebrows raised, before returning their attention to the others. As Rockspear closed the gap between himself and Harry, Bill knew what his mentor was planning to do and stifled an unmanly giggle.

Harry watched the goblin approach him and began to tense up before Rockspear held out his hand for a traditional handshake. "Are you kidding me?" blurted Sirius, causing Remus to groan and the others to shoot amused glances his way.

* * *

It was September 1st. In a few hours, the Hogwarts Express would be pulling into Hogsmeade and hundreds of students would ride the thestral-drawn carriages or magically propelled boats to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In any other situation, this would be one of the happiest moments of Albus Dumbledore's year. However, as he sat at the head of the last staff meeting of the summer before the students would arrive, he was severely distressed. He did not let his concern show, lest his possessed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor discover that Albus was aware of the situation. 

"Albus," said Minerva McGonagall. "Are you quite all right?"

Albus realized he had been lost in thought and straightened himself in his seat. "I am fine, Minerva. Thank you. Is everything prepared for the feast this evening?"

She nodded, though continued to eye him curiously. "Yes. I spoke with Hagrid earlier this afternoon. He's prepared the boats and fed the thestrals." At this, her mouth pursed in distaste.

"Excellent," responded Albus. "Does anyone else have any pressing needs or questions?" The other professors, including Quirinus Quirrell, shook their heads. When Albus looked to him, the younger man's left eye twitched a bit. A false appearance of concern crossed Albus' face. "Quirinus, are you certain you will be able to attend the feast? Poppy can prepare some potions for you, if you wish."

The turbaned man shook his head jerkily and stuttered out a response. "N-no th-th-thank you professor. I'll b-be fine. Just f-fine." A sickly smile followed his answer and Albus held in a sigh. He'd known as soon as the new Defense professor had arrived wearing the purple turban that Voldemort had possessed him. Harry had said it would happen when the faculty were informed that the Philosopher's Stone would be held at Hogwarts for the year, and as usual, he was correct. Nicholas Flamel and his wife were on a tour of the Muggle world and knew some of his suspicions. After insisting that he would return the stone within a month, Nicholas had shaken his hand and agreed.

"If things do not work out as you wish, do not worry about us, young man. Pernelle and I have lived long, happy lives. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. And trust me when I say this, both of us have had many years to organize our minds for this eventuality."

Albus had grimaced at the time, remembering Harry's Pensieve memory of himself saying the exact same phrase. He had learned many things from the much older man, but parroting Nicholas was not something he did often.

He had answered the fatalistic alchemist. "My friend, you will not be leaving us anytime soon. The world will need you in the near future, and I intend on making sure you and your lovely wife will be available."

Nicholas had laughed. "Ah, Albus. Always manipulating those of us who are too noble for our own good. Pernelle and I will be on the continent until the end of November. Owl us if you need anything."

Shaking himself out of his memories, Albus stood and realized he was alone in the staff room with Minerva. She looked at him with a squint to her eyes.

"Albus, are you certain you're all right? Do you need to speak to Poppy?" her eyes narrowed further as the edge of her mouth turned down, forming a scowl. "Or Severus?"

He laughed. "No, Minerva. I will be perfectly fine. I have just been...lost in my thoughts recently. Much has happened this summer."

She nodded. "Indeed. I still cannot believe Sirius Black was forced to endure Azkaban for so many years without a trial."

Albus nodded solemnly. "It is one of my greatest regrets. I was convinced that he was the Potter's secret keeper. So much so that I did not push the Ministry as much as I perhaps should have. Many things have been brought to my attention in the past few months, and I must admit I have begun to feel my years. I have made mistakes, Minerva. Many mistakes, and the consequences may be disastrous."

Minerva walked to his side and clasped his arm in her firm grip. "Don't dwell on the past, Albus. Learn from it, and try not to make the same errors in the future. That's the best any of us can do. You're a great wizard, and a great man, but even you can make mistakes." Albus agreed with her, but chuckled on the inside. The mistakes of the future were the ones he was trying to prevent.

* * *

"Perkins!" shouted Arthur Weasley. He was in his new office, which was still quite bare as he had only relocated the previous day. Several crates of personal items and files from his old department were stacked haphazardly around the room. 

"What!?" The answering shout was distant.

Arthur stepped to the door of his office and shouted again. "Where are you!?"

"In my office!"

"Come to the main office! I don't know where yours is!"

Almost a minute passed before Perkins stepped into the large, empty room that would soon contain several dozen witches and wizards. The Department of Muggle Relations was going to be the second largest department in the Ministry, close behind the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Many of the duties of both departments would be shared, such as responding to accidental magic and Muggle baiting, but the DMLE would soon be focusing solely on purely magical situations.

The short, older wizard strolled up to his boss and grinned widely. "I can't believe this, Arthur. My office is almost as big as the Minister's. Merlin! Is this real?"

"It's amazing, isn't it? I couldn't believe it when Amelia told me. Meeting the Muggle Prime Minister made it real enough, though. Care to have some lunch before we head out?"

"Head out?" asked Perkins.

"Yep. I'm introducing you to him. I explained that if I was ever unavailable that he would be speaking to you, and he wanted to meet you."

Perkins gulped, then gave a strained grin. "All right. I suppose I can understand that."

Arthur smiled and slapped the older man on the shoulder. "Wonderful! I can't wait to show you his office. There's so many Muggle things, and he knows about a lot of them. Used to be in the Muggle army. He worked with _e-lec-tron-ics."_

The pride in his voice as he slowly, but correctly, sounded out the Muggle word was palpable. As the redhead turned to lead the way out of the office, Perkins shook his head fondly. This was certainly going to be a fascinating change.

* * *

"This is certainly interesting," said Rockspear with a frown as he scratched his chin. The five of them sat quietly around a table. Remus looked concerned that sharing the truth with the goblin might not have been a good idea. 

"It's pretty difficult to believe," stated Harry.

Rockspear shook his head. "No, that is not what concerns me."

"Are you worried about the effects to the timeline?" asked Bill.

The goblin scoffed. "Hardly. If what you say is true, Mr. Potter here has already split our own universe off into a new timeline."

Harry shot Remus a victorious look as the older man perked up a bit, then scowled when he caught Harry's eye. Rockspear continued. "No, what concerns me is your 'Tom Riddle,' as you insist on calling him.

Harry sighed. "That's his name. Voldemort is an anagram."

"Yes, yes. But the persona of Voldemort is much more dangerous than Tom Riddle. It would not be wise to underestimate him by lessening your opinion of his power, based on a name."

Harry sat and pondered this for a moment, and there was silence at the table. Eventually, Rockspear resumed his questioning. "In your universe, Mr. Potter, you apparently had experience with goblins."

Harry nodded, but Bill decided to tackle the delicate topic that they knew would come up. "Harry was the Ministry's top liaison to the goblins. He and a friend of his, along with the Minister at the time, finally repealed most of the laws restricting goblins in the wizarding world."

Rockspear began to stroke his chin again. Harry noticed that the spindly pointed fingers kept passing over a faded scar that stretched from the goblins ear to the bottom of his chin. "I take that to mean we did not side with Voldemort in your timeline?" he inquired.

"The goblins remained neutral," responded Harry in a flat voice.

The goblin moved slightly. If he had been human, he would have reclined into his seat, thoughtfully. "You wish us to ally ourselves with you in this timeline," he stated.

Harry snorted and mimicked the goblin. "Hardly." At this unexpected response, Rockspear grinned toothily. It was not the malicious, bitter grin that most humans were familiar with, and it startled Remus and Sirius. Harry and Bill merely grinned back just as savagely.

"You truly are an interesting wizard, Mr. Potter."

"Please, Rockspear. Call me Harry."

"And you may call me Rock. William seems to prefer to shorten the name of every goblin he meets." He turned to Remus and Sirius. "You two should also use my unofficial _nickname_. As Harry has trusted you enough to impart this extremely valuable information, I should, at the least, allow that much informality."

The two Marauders stared for a moment before grinning sheepishly and nodding in agreement.

"So, what is it you want from me, Harry?" asked Rock as he snapped his fingers. A bottle of firewhiskey appeared, along with four glasses. A single butterbeer stood in front of Harry, who glared at it for a moment before answering.

"We need a favor," he responded as he picked up the butterbeer, trying not to look like a pouting child.

"I see."

Bill rejoined the conversation. "We're not asking you, or any goblins, to pick sides. There are some things we're willing to offer in exchange."

"Such as?"

Remus spoke for the first time since they had entered Rock's tent. "Full rights for goblins as citizens in the wizarding world. The Ministry would recognize Gringotts as an independent entity and allow several seats on the Wizengamot to be reserved for goblin elders."

As Bill concurred with that statement, Sirius shook his head in disbelief and drained his glass of firewhiskey. He then refilled his glass.

"That's an impressive offer, Remus. Do you speak for the Minister?"

Remus shook his head as Bill pulled out a single piece of parchment from his robes and laid it on the table. "He doesn't," said the redhead. "But I do."

"As do I," said Harry.

Rock grinned. He then began to chuckle, and proceeded to fall into a fit of full-blown laughter. The sight stunned Remus and caused Sirius to take a large gulp of his newly topped off glass.

"You are full of surprises, William. And Harry, I am certain that you would not be able to claim such a right if you were not involved in the recent disruption in the Ministry."

The grin Harry responded with was not as intimidating as the goblin's, but for a ten year old boy it was quite impressive. "I may have had something to do with it."

Rock was still shaking a bit with mirth. "Excellent. So Madame Bones is aware of the situation. Is there anyone else other than the four of you, the Minister and Albus Dumbledore?"

"No one else," said Harry. "It's just the seven of us at the moment."

"You intend to add to the list."

"Yes, we have a plan."

"You should not plan based on the past, Harry," said the goblin. "Planning the future of this timeline based on your original universe will be certain to bring unpleasant surprises."

"That's why we've come to you," agreed Harry.

Rock took a small sip of his firewhiskey and closed his eyes briefly. "Who else do you foresee speaking with about this matter?"

"For certain?" asked Harry. Rock bowed his head in confirmation. "Well, there's the seven of us. I'd like to keep the group as small as possible unless we have to."

"If things do not go according to your _plan_, who else would you trust with this information?"

The four of them had not given the idea much consideration and shared several bashful glances at being caught out. Sirius grimaced and finished his drink. He reached for the bottle once again before Remus snatched it away from him with a look.

"Well," Harry hesitated. "Bill, I think your dad would be one."

"It would probably be a good thing to have another department head to work with, especially with how much influence Amelia is planning on giving him," agreed Remus.

"That's going to be an awkward conversation," said Bill.

"Moody," said Harry.

"'Mad-eye' Moody?" asked Bill.

"Yeah. I don't know of anyone that hates Death Eaters more than him."

"Okay. I can see that," said Bill. He rubbed the back of his neck in thought. "Anyone else in my family?"

"Not right now. Maybe the twins in a few years. Ron when he's older."

"How about McGonagall?" inserted Remus.

Harry laughed. "Sure. I think we'll let Albus be the one to explain it to her, though."

Rock interrupted. "May I ask, have you spoken to the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? Rufus Scrimgeour?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't trust him."

"Is there anyone is that department who you would trust?" asked the goblin.

Remus responded. "Kingsley Shacklebolt is the new head Auror. What do you think, Harry?"

Harry let out a non-committal noise and stared into space for a moment before answering. "We can sound him out. I'm not sure what his feelings are at this point."

"You knew him for over fifteen years," said Remus. "Did you trust him in your universe?"

"Yes..." Harry grudgingly replied.

"Well, he can't be all that different. Plus, he can help us with Crouch without making a fuss in the Minister's office."

"Bartemius Crouch?" asked Rock.

"Junior," responded Remus. "His father has been hiding him and controlling him using the Imperious Curse for almost ten years now."

The goblin's face took on a predatory gleam as he turned to Bill. "How many Death Eaters are currently employed by the Ministry?"

"Probably around twenty to thirty," he responded. "We're not totally sure."

Harry expanded on the answer. "My memories of the Ministry are limited to what I knew as a child, Rock. In fact, at this point in my old universe, I wasn't even aware magic existed."

Rock's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing more.

"Speaking of Death Eaters..." Bill looked expectantly at Harry.

"No."

"You said you trusted him," countered Bill.

"No."

"Who?" asked Remus.

"Who do you think?" said Harry. "Of all the Death Eaters, which one do you think I'd consider... No," finished Harry, making a cutting motion with his hand.

Bill grinned. "What about Tonks?"

Sirius finally entered the conversation. "Nymphadora Tonks?"

Bill and Harry nodded. Remus looked down and began to blush.

"Moony?" questioned Sirius, tilting his head to meet his friend's eyes. The werewolf remained pink as he realized Sirius' cousin was just starting her seventh year at Hogwarts.

Sirius stood up shakily and struck out suddenly with his hand, only to grab the bottle of firewhiskey and walk out of the tent wordlessly. Remus and Harry shared a look and, with mumbled apologies, followed Sirius outside.

Rock waited until he were sure they would not be interrupted before speaking. "If you will agree, I believe informing Ragnok of this situation would be beneficial."

The human sitting across from him went wide-eyed for a second before calming himself with a sip from his glass. "How so?"

"You have asked me, or the goblins, if I am not mistaken, for a favor. I imagine if Harry is as familiar with goblins as he claims, he would not make such a request lightly. Of course the secrecy spell I am under would require Harry's permission to share this information with Ragnok, but I believe you should consider it."

Taking a breath and holding it for a moment, Bill exhaled sharply before staring into Rock's inky eyes. "Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

The goblin jerked in surprise before reclaiming his usual calm expression. "Yes," he answered simply.

"Riddle, or Voldemort, created six Horcruxes. One of them is in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts in London. In Harry's universe, he and two of his friends broke in and acquired it with the help of a fugitive goblin on the run from Death Eaters."

"And what of the other five?" asked Rock, choosing to ignore the unlikeliness of someone breaking into one of the deepest levels of Gringotts.

"We've destroyed three of them. One is in the possession of Lucius Malfoy, the other is in the vault," said Bill.

"And the sixth?" Rock asked with a hint of barely noticeable dread.

"It's Harry."

"Hmm," responded Rock. "This is certainly _very _interesting."

* * *

The Welcoming Feast had just ended. The prefects were leading the first years to their new houses while the other students made their way to their dormitories. Albus was walking with his Potions professor in tow. 

"Whoppers," said the headmaster to the gargoyle. It slid aside, revealing the staircase that led to his office.

Once inside, Severus Snape looked around. He hadn't been there since the end of last term, and immediately noticed many of the unidentifiable magical devices that had littered the shelves were no longer present. The sound of Albus clearing his throat focused his attention.

"Severus, I feel the need to apologize to you."

Snape raised an eyebrow, but otherwise showed no reaction.

"It has been brought to my attention that I occasionally make requests that may be...difficult to fulfill. I would like to apologize to you for insisting you continue to pay penance for your time in the service of Lord Voldemort."

During the apology, Snape's eyebrow had returned to it's normal position. The Potion Master's expression remained impassive as he spoke. "There is no need to apologize, Headmaster. Is there anything else?"

Albus smiled sadly at the younger man. "Indeed, Severus. Please stay in the dungeons and away from Quirrell this evening. I will explain in the morning, but at the moment it is of the utmost importance that_ you_ specifically keep your distance."

The dour man grimaced slightly and nodded once before turning to the door and exiting the office. Albus sighed and unwrapped a Rolo, tossing it in his mouth as he considered his plan for the evening. Convincing Quirrell to come with him alone to the chamber where the Philosopher's Stone was hidden within the Mirror of Erised would not be a challenge. The problem would be what was to follow.

After completing some paperwork, which often sat untouched for minutes at a time as Albus contemplated his plan, he noted the time and rose from his chair. He made his way to the Defense professor's private quarters and announced his presence to the painting on the door. The portrait nodded and vanished for a moment before Quirrell emerged, fiddling with his turban.

"How m-may I help you, A-Albus?"

"Quirinus, I have been ruminating on the defenses the faculty has placed on the Stone. I believe you mentioned several curses and protective spells you are familiar with that we chose not to utilize?"

"Yes I d-did, Albus."

"Excellent," Albus beamed. "Would you please accompany me down into the chamber so that we may add some additional protections?"

"C-certainly," stuttered Quirrell, his eyes wide in shock. Albus could almost feel the anticipation in the air. He guessed it was not from the weak-willed professor.

They made their way to the third floor corridor in silence. The few half-hearted attempts at conversation Albus had made were tempered by the knowledge that Voldemort was within feet of him. It was unnerving. As he conjured a flute to play a soft tune, they both watched Fluffy huff once from each head before falling asleep. When he turned to Quirrell, the man had a nervous grin on his face that was so insincere that Albus wanted to lash out at him.

They continued on, canceling the traps quickly. Albus had full control over all of them except the troll Quirrell himself had placed in the room following the flying keys. When they reached the troll, Quirrell cast an impressively strong Confundus charm and they moved on without incident. When they reached the entrance to the chamber that held the Stone, Albus turned to his companion and smiled falsely as he waved his wand, banishing the flames.

He stepped into the room and spotted the Mirror of Erised against the wall. Quirrell followed him and stopped, eyeing the mirror. "Quirinus, have you put any thought into what defenses would be strongest? said Albus.

"Y-y-yes, I have," he stuttered, staring at the mirror. "What is that?" The stutter seemed to have gone.

"That is the Mirror of Erised."

"Is the Stone hidden in the mirror?" The stutter was most definitely absent.

With Quirrell completely focused on the mirror, Albus surreptitiously drew his wand and held it at his side. "No, Tom. It is not. And you will never know where I have hidden it."

He had expected Quirrell to turn, either in fear of being discovered or in surprise. Instead, he did not move at all. Standing still as if petrified, the possessed Defense professor and the Headmaster merely waited for what they knew would happen.

"Let me speak with him," hissed a voice that caused Albus to wince internally. He had truly hoped this day would never come.

"But Master, you are not strong eno-" he was silenced by a curse so strong the air sizzled as it flew toward him from Albus' wand. Quirrell dropped to his knees just in time, Voldemort's control of his body was too powerful to disobey. Rolling over to release his wand hand, he conjured a wall of cement and surrounded himself with it as it grew thicker. Albus fired several spells at the wall, but only managed to gouge holes in it that were quickly filled in as the wall expanded.

"Now, now, Albus. Is that any way to treat a former student?" hissed the same voice. They were ensconced within the cement walls, but the words echoed around the chamber.

"I cannot allow you to have the Philosopher's Stone, Tom," replied Albus as he cast several wards around the room as well as a few containment spells and hexes Bill had shared with him.

"That's some interesting magic, old man." Albus could hear the faint mutterings of Quirrell whenever Voldemort spoke, but it would cut out whenever he quieted. "Do you really think you can contain me?" A maniacal chuckle echoed around the room, and even when Voldemort's taunting ceased, Albus could still hear it bouncing along the walls of the chamber.

"It matters not, Tom," replied Albus when the noise had subsided. "Your followers no longer serve you. Quirinus, if you can hear me, you do not have to obey him. You are not lost."

A strangled scream was the only response, followed quickly by the crackling of magical energy that made Albus hold his wand with both hands in preparation for whatever was going to happen next.

Another second went by before a roar reverberated throughout the chamber, shattering the mirror and causing cracks in the walls from floor to ceiling. Chunks of stone fell to the ground, breaking into pieces as they struck the floor. Albus watched as the cement block that Voldemort had hidden himself within fractured with thousands of tiny fissures.

A moment of calm followed. The only sound was the quiet clinking of small pieces of the ceiling falling to the ground. Albus stood on guard, unmoving. The cement block Voldemort had surrounded himself with suddenly exploded outward. Thousands of broken pieces of it flew through the air so fast that the air sizzled. They stuck the wall with an uncountable number of claps that ran together, the noise level putting a strain on Albus' ears. His conjured stone shield held up for a moment, but ricochets from behind slashed at his body, tearing through his robes.

As the debris settled and the shield he had conjured dissolved, Albus looked with dawning horror at the sight before him. Quirrell's head was turned at an unnatural angle so that Voldemort's face, attached to the back of his skull, was facing the headmaster with a repulsive leer. The professor was obviously dead, and his Master was controlling the corpse with dark magic Albus had read about as being possible, but never practiced.

"Tom, you cannot possibly hope to win this. You will never have the Stone. It is too well protected."

"Do not use that filthy Muggle name, Albus," the voice seemed to be wavering in strength.

"You have no followers. No one will help you. No one _can _help you."

Quirrell's arm rose and the wand in the dead wizard's hand pointed directly at Albus. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Albus dove away as soon as the first syllable was uttered and transfigured as much of the debris as he could into sharp steel blades. With a flick of his wand, they went speeding toward the body of Quirrell. Voldemort made no effort to avoid them and Quirrell was struck until even less of his robes remained than Albus'. With cuts all over his body, the face of Voldemort merely grinned and looked down at several blades sticking out of the body he inhabited.

"Do you truly believe you can stop me? I am Lord Voldemort!"

"You are a shadow of your formal self, Tom Riddle. I am afraid you have been since before I ever met you in that orphanage."

"Ah, Albus. But that orphanage made me what I am today. That place, along with a bit of help from you, created the greatest wizard the world has ever known!" The body of Quirrell was beginning to stumble. Albus knew that Voldemort's magic was weakening. It was time to finish this.

When he pulled out the opaque vial of Harry's blood, the shadowy eyes of Voldemort widened for an instant before he scowled.

"Tom," stated Albus. "It is over." He threw the vial toward Quirrell and his wand shot forward, blasting it into a spray of glass and moisture. When it struck a bemused Voldemort, his expression changed to one of agony. The scream was so thunderous that when Albus tried to cast a silencing charm, the magical backlash knocked him to the ground.

Stumbling to his feet, Albus watched dispassionately as the body of Quirinus Quirrell quickly dissolved. The specter of Voldemort rose and quickly floated to the door, where a quick glow from one of the wards pushed it back to the center of the room. Enraged, it flew from ceiling to floor, trying several points in the wall as it moved, without any change.

In a rage, Voldemort sped toward Albus. The headmaster dodged as the specter flew past him, and tried to cast a containment charm at it. It struck, and other than a slight wavering appearance, as if it were underwater by a few inches, it seemed undamaged and continued to approach him.

Firing one last spell to conjure an iron plated, solid cage to surround the specter, Albus gasped as Voldemort flew straight through it. The last thing Albus saw before he collapsed were the hate-filled, glowing, red eyes of Tom Riddle.

* * *

_A/N - So, a cliffhanger, huh? How 'bout that? So my new beta, StM as I shall refer to her in A/N's, mentioned some of you may be confused by QQ showing up the year before Harry's first year - and this is assuming that you all realize it's the year before PS. But you knew that, because you're smart. Just like me. _

_Anyway, there's an essay on the lexicon about Quirrell and his time abroad that leads me to believe he did not go to Albania the year before Harry attended Hogwarts. If you go to the A-Z listing on the front page of the lexicon, it's under 'Q' for Quirrell as 'Quirrell's Leave of Absence.' Check it out. It's what I'm basing this part of the story on, if you're confused. _

_So...yeah! Good stuff, and don't forget to review. You guys are awesome. _

_Oh, and I have a new story up. Check out my profile page. It's called **'Loyalty Redefined.' ** Don't worry, this story is still my priority. My profile also has the artists and song names that I borrowed for my chapter titles. This chapter is a bit of a doozy. Kinda obscure compared to the others._


	11. Even the Scars Forget the Wounds

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**Even the Scars Forget the Wounds**

"Sirius!" shouted Harry, chasing after his godfather, who was marching away from the tent. He took off running, Sirius' slight swaying allowing him to catch up without too much difficulty. Remus was right behind him.

Harry grabbed the arm not holding the bottle of liquor. "Sirius, stop."

The older man turned and looked down at Harry with shining eyes and didn't even notice Remus come up to his other side and gently pry the firewhiskey from his grip.

"Harry," choked out Sirius. "This is ridiculous. Why am I here? You don't need me."

"We _do_ need you, Sirius. I need you."

"You need me to sign your permission forms!" he spat.

Harry stood back and frowned at him. "What are you talking about?" he asked softly.

Remus decided this was a good time to intervene. "Padfoot, what's wrong?"

"Everything! I just spent ten years in Azkaban! I couldn't protect my godson! James asked me to do one thing, and I failed." He hung his head and raised his hand toward his face only to realize he was no longer holding the bottle. "Where's my firewhiskey?"

"You're drunk, Padfoot. You don't need it," said Remus.

"Moony, come on! I woke up from a nightmare to find I've failed at the one thing that mattered in my life. And I've failed twice!"

Harry rubbed his face in frustration. Sirius stumbled back a few steps and then fell back. He sat up on the ground, a hard mixture of sand and stone, and began rubbing his hand across it. "You say you trust me, but you don't even know me. I've spent ten years of my life in Azkaban. I can't do anything to help you."

"You're my godfather, Sirius. That's all I need you to be."

Sirius laughed sadly. "You're the same age as us, Harry. You and Moony have been taking care of me for the past month. I need you more than you need me."

Remus sighed. He'd known something like this was coming. Everything the healers at St. Mungo's had said would happen was materializing at a curse-breaking camp in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He glanced at Harry and saw he was looking worriedly at his godfather, unable to come up with the right words to ease the emotionally scarred man's fears.

"Harry, why don't you let me talk to him. Go see if Rock has anymore questions? Albus should be sending Fawkes with news soon, anyway."

Harry nodded at Remus and with a final glance at Sirius, turned and walked back to Rock's tent.

* * *

Michelle Alton had been working for Amelia Bones for only a few weeks. She had graduated from Hogwarts with ten N.E.W.T.'s, all O's or E's. As a Muggle-born, many of the things she had seen since entering the magical world had surprised or disturbed her, though working in the Ministry was no different in that respect than attending Hogwarts had been. In the short time she'd been Personal Assistant to the Minister of Magic, she had witnessed several things she had never expected to see.

During her first day, Albus Dumbledore, her former headmaster, had waltzed up to Michelle's desk and started to speak to her as if they were old friends. After seven years of hardly speaking to a man that her fellow Hufflepuffs had assured her was the most powerful wizard in Britain, her responses had been stuttered and incomplete.

Several days later, Dumbledore had returned to the Minister's office with two guests. A shabbily dressed man had nodded politely and been followed by Bill Weasley, who had been head boy when she was a fifth year. She had gaped for a moment, causing him to smile crookedly, before announcing their arrival to her boss.

Other than the regular visits of some of the richest and most powerful wizards in Britain, as well as various representatives of the many magical governments who had come to pay their respects to the new Minister, nothing else of interest had occurred until the beginning of the past week.

Dumbledore, along with the same two guests from earlier, had arrived with an extremely thin man she didn't recognize. Michelle had greeted them warmly by name before turning to the dark haired stranger. He had eyed her for a short moment in a way that made her slightly self-conscious before introducing himself as Sirius Black and offering his hand.

Her mouth had opened and closed a few times before she was able to find her voice again, and she meekly introduced herself before alerting the Minister to the presence of her guests. As the four had walked through the wide oak paneled double doors that led to Amelia's office, Michelle heard Remus Lupin admonishing Black while her former schoolmate and headmaster chuckled merrily at them.

The rest of the week had been even more bizarre. Three days ago, a contingent of goblins had portkeyed to the Ministry and landed on top of her desk. Her shriek of surprise had caused one of the goblins to magically fling her into the wall, but after the Minister had emerged from her office, everyone had calmed down and the goblin had actually apologized to her and Amelia for the disruption. Michelle had focused as much as the average Hogwarts student during History of Magic with Professor Binns, which was to say not at all, but even she knew that being apologized to by a goblin was a rare occurrence.

The next day a burst of fire had announced the arrival of a phoenix, which had perched itself at the front of her desk. It had stared at her, seemingly confused for a moment, before trilling softly and bursting into flame once more. A shout of surprise from the Minister's office clued her in to the phoenix's intended destination. Several minutes later, Minister Bones had emerged from her office and given her explicit instructions to block Lucius Malfoy, one of the ranking members of the Wizengamot, from entering the Minister's office. A pair of house elves had appeared an hour later and explained, in their convoluted way, that they were assigned to assist her with security.

Malfoy had indeed approached her desk later that afternoon. She had politely explained to him that the Minister was not available for a meeting. He'd insisted several times that he urgently needed to speak with her, and when his temper finally broke he'd shouted at her, calling her "Mudblood" and several other impolite names. The house elves, Shrin and Creaky, had popped into the office at that point, further enraging Malfoy. Shrin had snapped her fingers and the Pureblood had frozen where he stood. Creaky moved his hands in a complex motion which had been followed by a second snap of Shrin's fingers, and Michelle had watched Lucius Malfoy stumble a bit, and then spin around and wander back out into the corridor from which he had entered.

That had been two days ago. Today was September first. Hogwarts was back in session, and everything had been blissfully quiet and uneventful since Malfoy's unpleasant visit. The only warning signs Michelle could discern were some vague comments from the Minister and the fact that it was really much too quiet. Every day as the Minister's assistant had been hectic with crises occurring rather regularly, and she wasn't very confident that today would be any different. The tension in the air whenever she spoke with the Minister also could not be ignored. As the afternoon slowly slipped away into evening, Michelle began to feel uneasy. When Minister Bones stepped out of her office and softly called her name, Michelle jerked so violently that a jar of ink was knocked to the floor. The Minister smiled grimly at her and reparo'd the jar before speaking.

"Ms. Alton, I apologize for startling you."

Michelle shook her head. "It was my fault, Ma'am. I've been a bit edgy all afternoon."

Amelia nodded and appeared about to speak. She closed her mouth and pursed her lips, considering her assistant for a moment. "I'm expecting the phoenix that appeared on your desk earlier this week to return sometime this evening. I would like you to stay until I receive a message scheduled to be delivered."

The question in Michelle's eyes was extremely obvious and Amelia again realized that the girl was only a few months removed from her NEWT's.

"Fawkes is the companion of Albus Dumbledore," Amelia answered the unasked question. "There is a special project he's been working on for the past few weeks, and it should be completed tonight. I'd like to know the result immediately, and Fawkes apparently has taken a liking to you."

Michelle's expression turned from confused to incredulous and then her face turned a light shade of pink. Amelia chuckled quietly as she waited for a response.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll be happy to. Do you know what time..."

"It may be quite late," answered Amelia. Her assistant showed no sign of irritation, a result of still being new to the job she guessed. She thanked Michelle and returned to her office, growing more apprehensive with each passing minute.

Several hours later, after Creaky had brought the two of them a late dinner, Amelia sat in a chair placed against the wall across from her assistant's desk. They were passing the time as best they could, though Amelia couldn't help but check her watch every few minutes, when a sudden burst of flame and an almost inaudible pop heralded the arrival of Fawkes.

Amelia stood up, her mask of detachment sliding from joy to concern as she took in the agitated manner in which the phoenix was flapping around the office. Fawkes squawked several times, the harsh noise nothing like the soothing phoenix song the bird was famous for, and then landed on Michelle's desk, directly in front of the assistant.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"It seems that Albus' plan did not work out as well as we had hoped." Amelia slowly approached Fawkes and held out her hand. The phoenix glanced between the two women and sang a short note that caused a sense of urgency to rise up in both of them.

Michelle stood, joining Amelia and stroking Fawkes gently on the head. The phoenix then took to the air and circled around them, repeating the same urgent note as Amelia rounded the desk and stood next to her assistant. With a sudden lurch, Fawkes flew between them and grasped each of their shoulders with his claws.

Michelle had never felt anything like it. It felt as if her body had blinked out of existence and then back into reality without the passage of time. A slight tingle was the only indication that she had traveled magically. It was wildly different from disapparation. Once she had grasped that she had changed locations, Michelle glanced around and realized she was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. The Minister had begun to move before Michelle had even realized they were no longer at the Ministry and was standing next to Madam Pomfrey.

"What happened?" asked Amelia.

"I have no idea. Fawkes brought him here less than ten minutes ago. He was probably doing something foolish with those traps, again."

"Have you seen Professor Quirrell tonight?"

Madam Pomfrey gave her a sharp glance. "No, I haven't. Is there something I should know?"

"Get Severus. And Filius. Tell them to check on Professor Quirrell in his quarters. If he isn't there, I'm afraid I'll need to ask them to assist some Aurors in searching his belongings."

The medi-witch stared at her for a moment before shooting a look toward Albus. "I need to see to my patient first. You can use the floo if it's absolutely necessary."

"Thank you, Poppy." Amelia paused and then also glanced at Albus. "How is he?"

"He's magically exhausted! I've never seen Albus Dumbledore in this state before, even after he performed some feats that would have killed a normal wizard."

Amelia swallowed nervously. "Will he survive?"

Madam Pomfrey chuckled darkly. "Oh, he'll survive the magical exhaustion. I haven't decided yet if he'll survive _me! _Of all the idiotic-"

Fawkes trilled happily and flew to his companion's bed. As the phoenix perched himself next to Albus' head, he began to sing a soft, warbling tune that brought a smile to the face of the three witches present. They stood still for over a minute, listening to the phoenix song, before Michelle gasped and pointed at her former headmaster.

"He's smiling!" she exclaimed.

Madam Pomfrey looked down at her patient. "So he is."

"I need to speak with him immediately," demanded Amelia.

"Minister," the matron bristled. "Albus is over one hundred years old. I will not forcibly wake him up after he has suffered the biggest drain on his magic since I have known him." When Amelia looked as if she were about to speak, Madam Pomfrey raised her hands. "Absolutely not!"

Amelia reached into her robes and pulled out a piece of parchment. Wordlessly, she handed it to Madam Pomfrey, who read it with a rising sense of indignation.

"Fine. If that's what he requested, I'll wake him. But not for longer than five minutes. Surely you can get the information you require in that time."

"Yes," agreed Amelia. "That will be fine."

Michelle, who had stayed silent during the entire exchange, started when Amelia returned to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be fine, Michelle." It was the first time the Minister had used her first name and it pulled the young witch's attention away from the man who looked far older than he had at her graduation ceremony at the beginning of the summer. She looked at Amelia and tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace. The older woman patted her arm a few times and then wandered back to the headmaster's side as Madam Pomfrey administered a reviving potion under the watchful eye of Fawkes.

Albus blinked several times and attempted to focus his eyes. His first reaction was to locate his wand, but a chirp from Fawkes calmed his nerves. He knew his companion would have secured it immediately after bringing him to the hospital wing in which he now found himself. After catching the look of vexation on the face of Poppy, he turned his head and looked into the inquiring eyes of the Minister of Magic. No words were spoken, but the unasked question lay heavily between them. A small shake of his head caused Amelia's face to drop in disappointment.

"Shit!" Amelia's exclamation escaped her tightly clenched jaw and caused both Madam Pomfrey and Michelle to step back in shock and fear.

"Indeed," agreed Albus, his voice weak. He glanced around the room and his eyes alighted on Michelle. "I believe your assistant will be making quite the journey this evening." He turned to Fawkes. "The letter, please?"

With a chirp that Michelle supposed indicated agreement, the phoenix flamed away and then reappeared in less than five-seconds. In his claws was a tightly rolled piece of parchment with a strand of black twine tied around it.

Albus handed it to Amelia and then spoke softly. "I wrote this in the event I was unsuccessful this evening. It contains several suggestions that I did not feel he would be comfortable discussing. You know that he does not like to tempt fate, though I can hardly fault him for that, given his experience."

A single, bitter snort escaped Amelia as she took the letter. She motioned to Michelle to join her at the bed. Her assistant cautiously approached, not comfortable being alone with two of the most powerful people in Magical Britain.

"Ms. Alton," greeted Albus.

"Headmaster," she responded nervously.

The older man's eyes twinkled at trepidation. "May I ask a favor of you, my dear?"

"Y-yes sir," she stuttered.

Albus chuckled softly, and his face seemed to lose some of the waxiness that had been present since they'd arrived at Hogwarts.

"I need you to allow Fawkes to transport you somewhere and deliver this letter and a message from Minister Bones. It lies outside of Britain and the wards surrounding the location allow no instantaneous magical travel other than by phoenix-fire."

Michelle gulped and nodded hesitantly. Albus saw the anxiousness and tried to reassure her.

"It is extremely safe. Most likely safer than the Ministry. There will be several people there to greet you whom you have already become acquainted. This is of the utmost importance. You may be required to submit to several secrecy charms upon your arrival. Do you wish to accept from this task?"

Michelle pondered the situation she found herself in, and idly considered that six weeks earlier she had been sitting on a beach in Spain with her roommates following graduation. Almost without her consent, Michelle's head began to nod in agreement and she saw the Minister smile out of the corner of her eye.

"Excellent," breathed Albus. "It appears Poppy is about to forcibly subdue me, so I will allow Minister Bones to fill you in on what has occurred this evening. Amelia, inform Filius of what has transpired tonight. Do not alert Severus. I wish to be the one to tell him." Amelia nodded. "Poppy?"

Madam Popfrey stepped up to the bed and pushed a vial of potion to Albus' lips rather forcibly. After he swallowed it and shut his eyes, Amelia and Michelle hastily made their way to the other side of the infirmary.

Amelia shoved the roll of parchment into Michelle's hands and began to explain an abbreviated version of the night's events. "Ms. Alton, tonight Voldemort," Amelia was pleased that the Muggle-born witch had no visible response other than an almost imperceptible wince, "attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Are you aware of its properties?"

Michelle confirmed that she was.

"With the assistance of Professor Quirrell, whom he had possessed, Voldemort attempted to abscond with the stone earlier this evening. Albus and several others had planned for this, and while it appears Quirrell is dead, Voldemort's spirit has apparently escaped despite Albus' best efforts."

"Professor Quirrell is dead?" Michelle was shocked that the meek professor she had never thought twice about had been possessed by Voldemort.

"Yes, and Voldemort is still free. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good," Amelia paused to collect her thoughts. "Now, I need you to pass along a message to Bill Weasley."

Memories of the former head boy visiting the Minister's office started to make much more sense to Michelle. She shook her head, clearing it so that she could focus completely on what the Minister was saying.

"Tell him that the stone is safe, Albus is injured but will be fine. Quirrell is dead but Voldemort escaped. Give him this parchment. I don't know what Albus has written, but I imagine Bill and his companions will be expecting it."

Michelle nodded her understanding and placed the parchment in her robes. Amelia gave her a brief smile and gently grasped her arm. "It will be fine, Michelle. At the moment Voldemort is not a major threat. We aim to keep it that way. Now, if Fawkes is ready..."

The phoenix fluttered over and landed on Michelle's shoulder. Just the presence of the magical bird seemed to cause most of Michelle's anxiety to drift away. Before they vanished, she had time for one last question.

"When will you need me back, Ma'am?"

Amelia's lips flattened. "Take as long as you need. There's nothing more important than this going on at the ministry. Be safe."

Michelle vanished in a burst of flame without getting a chance to respond.

* * *

Harry and Bill sat across from Rock in the goblin's tent. Harry had persuaded them to allow him a small glass of firewhiskey, and with Remus outside with an already drunk Sirius, there was no one to prevent him from partaking.

"Explain to me how three teenagers who should have been finishing their seventh year at Hogwarts managed to break into one of the lower level vaults and escape alive," requested Rock.

Bill, extremely pleased that Harry's tale had managed to fluster his mentor, grinned enormously. Harry set his glass down and prepared to describe, in detail, a story which he had told hundreds of times. He had become sick of it in his old universe as it was a story most of the wizarding world was well aware of, and most people only wanted to hear it again from the famous Harry Potter. This was different, and Harry was enjoying sharing some of his more wild adventures with people hearing them for the first time. It also helped distract him from thoughts of his drunken and maladjusted godfather.

"Well, as hard as it was to get in, the tricky part was getting out."

"I see," said Rock. "William informed me that you had assistance from a goblin to gain access to the vault itself."

"Right," agreed Harry. "That was Griphook. He's a sly one. He never really got over how we...parted ways."

"And you escaped on a dragon?" prompted Rock.

Harry frowned at Bill. "Did you tell him the whole story?

"Well," started Bill. "Mostly just the -"

A soft _whoosh_ of air and a quiet "Eep," interrupted what he was going to say and the three of them turned to see Michelle standing by the flap of the tent with Fawkes on her shoulder. The phoenix looked quite pleased with himself while the woman under him seemed a bit disoriented.

"Michelle?" asked Harry, then realized he had not met her in this universe yet.

"Ms. Alton?" Bill attempted to cover for Harry, and it seemed to work as Michelle was still looking around at each of them without having acknowledged either of their greetings. She was holding a roll of parchment with a length of black twine tightened around its center. Harry jumped up when he saw it, knowing its meaning, and rushed forward in an attempt to get a hold of it. Michelle figured out what he was trying to do and lifted it into the air above her head so that the small boy could not reach it.

"I'm sorry, this is meant for William Weasley only," she said with a note of disdain as she looked down her nose at Harry.

As he looked back up at her with an exasperated expression on his face, she gasped with recognition. The lightning bolt scar on his forehead told her all she needed to know and she continued to gape as Harry sighed in resignation while Bill strode over to them and smoothly retrieved the parchment. Rock maintained his seat, grinning toothily.

"Thank you, Ms. Alton," said Bill. He motioned for her to take a seat, which she did hesitantly. Harry and Bill quickly joined her and Harry finished off the last of his drink. Michelle glanced at the glass, then the bottle of firewhiskey sitting on the table, before she turned a confused gaze onto Bill.

"What's going on here? Is that Harry Potter?"

Harry answered indignantly. "Yes, I'm Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One, The Savior, The-Boy-Who-Traveled-Back-In-Time-And-Has-To-Sneak-Glasses-Of-Firewhiskey-Behind-His-Guardian's-Backs-Becuase-He-Looks-Like-A-Ten-Year-Old."

Rock snorted and Michelle's head swiveled from Harry toward the goblin before finally resettling on Bill, whose mouth had twisted into a half-smile half-grimace.

"Harry," he started. "Why? Do you think it's a good idea to obvliviate her? We don't know what's going on."

"Fawkes brought her here, obviously he trusts her," responded Harry with a nod toward the Phoenix. Fawkes chirped his agreement. Harry continued. "Michelle, is Albus all right? What happened with Riddle?"

She did not answer. Her only response was a gaping mouth and a pair of confused eyes that continued to dart between the other three occupants of the room.

"Ms. Alton," said Bill, gently. "Did the Minister or the Headmaster have a message for us?"

Michelle shook herself and nodded. She smoothed her robes and took a breath before answering. "Yes, they both spoke to me. Professor Dumbledore was injured fighting Voldemort, but he's in the infirmary now, and should be fine. They said to tell you that the stone is safe and Professor Quirrell is d-dead." She gulped as her face paled.

"What about Voldemort?" asked Harry.

Her head snapped to the boy who had a look of burning intensity that made her shrink back a bit in her seat. "Professor Dumbledore said he escaped," she finally responded.

"Shit!" screamed Harry in the high pitched voice of a child, unknowingly echoing the Minister's reaction of a few minutes earlier. Bill cursed quietly to himself but couldn't help but be amused at the sight of Harry stalking back and forth in the tent, swearing in such a way that would have made Sirius blush. As if on cue, Remus and Sirius returned from their chat outside, bursting through the tent flap with the werewolf in the lead.

Remus glanced at Bill, then spotted Michelle with Fawkes still perched on her shoulder, and then back at the redhead. Bill shook his head slightly and Remus' shoulders slumped a bit. At that moment, they were both distracted by Sirius. The inebriated man had run to Harry without a glance at the others, and the goblin, three humans and phoenix watched as Sirius darted forward, tripped over his own foot and crashed into the ground and slid to a stop at his godson's feet.

Harry had stopped pacing when they had appeared in the tent, and hadn't moved during Sirius' diving fall. As his godfather slowly gathered himself and rose to his knees, Harry grinned at the others over Sirius' shoulder.

"Harry, is everything okay?" the older man slurred.

"It's fine, Sirius. The plan didn't exactly work out. Riddle escaped. Albus is okay, though. Everyone is fine."

Through the haze, Sirius' emotions crashed together and he began sobbing in relief for his friends and godson, as well as concern for what the future would bring. He hugged Harry close, crying on his shoulder.

Bill's friend Geoff, who they had met briefly earlier that day, had heard the commotion from his tent three flaps down. Concerned, he quickly walked over and stuck his head through the entrance. The man he recognized as Sirius Black, ex-convict of Azkaban, was on his knees, sobbing on the shoulder of the most famous child in the wizarding world. Bill was sitting next to a lovely young witch who had what appeared to be a phoenix on her shoulder. The magnificent bird seemed to be smirking at the display before them. Geoff hadn't known that birds could express themselves like that, but reasoned that phoenixes were one of the most magical creatures in existence. Remus Lupin was holding a small glass in front of Rock as the goblin poured from a bottle of firewhiskey. Remus was smiling while the goblin was chuckling heartily. The sound of the goblin laughing sent a brief shiver up Geoff's spine and he slowly backed out of the tent, hoping no one had noticed him.

They hadn't. He went back to his tent and decided to go to bed, hoping that things would make a bit more sense in the morning.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Sorry it took so long! I'm a bad person. This is the last part of...well, part one, I suppose. The next couple of chapters will kind of zoom along until the beginning of Harry's first year at Hogwarts! Yay! That's when the true craziness will begin. Thanks for reading, and let me know if there's anything special you want to see as far as the foursome's vacation travels. (That's a hint to review, if you didn't figure it out.)

_**A/N Part Deux: **_Don't forget, if you want to know where I get the titles, the artists are on my profile page. I also have a really, really important poll that you should vote in. It's really important. Really.

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	12. Nothing As It Seems

**Disclaimer: **Shenme?

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**Nothing As It Seems  
**

_Nine Months Later..._

Hermione Granger looked up from the book she was reading when she heard the chime of the doorbell. The sound of the shower down the hall made her realize that she would need to be the one to answer the door. Her mother was still preparing for work before dropping Hermione off at school. With a sigh, the eleven year old carefully placed the gold-trim leather bookmark she had received for Christmas on the page and gently shut the book. She clomped down the stairs and made her way to the door.

When she opened it, she was not shocked to see a man who appeared a bit ragged but hopeful. What she was surprised to see was a boy who appeared to be about her age. The black haired youth grinned at her, then glanced up at his companion with what she could only describe as a smirk.

A slight hesitation was the only indication she was confused. Drawing herself up, Hermione greeted them with a cool look and ignored the boy as her gaze shifted back to the older man. "Can I help you, sir?"

The man responded with a slight bow of his head and spoke. "We were hoping to speak with Hermione Granger. I presume that would be you, young lady?"

"And why would you presume that?" she asked, attempting to look down her nose at a man almost twice her height.

His grin only increased at the reply, and the boy at his side actually _snorted._ "We were informed that there were only three residents of this address," answered the man. "And as two of them are the parents of Miss Granger, we must assume that any child answering the door would be her. Unless you're a friend of hers?" His voice trailed off, and the pain in her eyes was quickly snuffed out by a mask of suspicion.

"Why do you want to speak with me?" asked Hermione. It was said neutrally, but her natural curiosity was so strong it radiated off of her.

"Do you mind if we come in for a few minutes?" asked the man. The explanation could take awhile. We'd also like to speak with your parents, if they're home."

"My mother is in the shower at the moment, but she should be done in a few minutes." Hermione led the two inside and sat them down on a comfortable couch in what appeared to be the living room. Several plush chairs and a love seat finished off the seating in the room. They all faced a large television, sitting inside a dark wooden cabinet. Pictures of Hermione and her parents adorned the walls, as well as several other people that Harry knew were her extended family. One photograph had the entire Granger clan. Both sets of grandparents sat on each end of the group, with Hermione's father next to his parents while Hermione's mother and Aunt stood next to theirs. Her two cousins, both older, stood in the center of the photograph. Hermione sat between them as a baby. The picture must have been ten years old, and Harry remembered his friend telling him that her Grandparents had all died by the time she started attending Hogwarts.

He studied the picture from his seat while Remus sat next to him, staring around the room and smiling when he heard Hermione shouting to her mother in the shower. A few moments later, Hermione reemerged and offered them some tea. They both declined politely, and the three of them sat around in an awkward silence for several minutes, waiting for Mrs. Granger.

Finally, an older version of the woman from the photograph, but younger than Harry remembered from his past, entered the room. She smiled at them questioningly, and extended her hand as they stood and smiled back.

"Mrs. Granger," began Remus. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Helen, please,"

"Helen, then. My name is Remus Lupin, and this young man," he said, nodding to Harry, "is Harry Potter. We're here to discuss an opportunity for Hermione to attend a specialized school suited for her unique talents."

Helen Granger smiled brightly with obvious pride at her daughter. Hermione blushed slightly at the look and glanced toward the floor.

"Well, Mr. Lupin, I'm sorry to say that we've already arranged for Hermione to participate in several different programs for gifted children." Her smile lost a bit of its brightness as her eyes flicked to her still blushing daughter. "Hermione also decided she didn't want to continue with traditional schooling. She hasn't had great success with her teachers or classmates in the past."

Remus nodded and patted Harry on the back. The black haired boy approached Hermione, who looked up with a hint of anxiety on her face. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and Harry had trouble not laughing at the bucked teeth that had Madam Pomfrey had unknowingly shrunk down to normal in his other life.

The werewolf spoke again, glancing back and forth between the children and Helen Granger. "Helen, would it be all right if Harry took Hermione outside or up to her room while we speak? I think you'll be very interested in what my school has to offer your daughter. And I think Hermione will be interested, as well."

With a glance at the boy standing in front of her daughter, Helen nodded her head and Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her to the back door, not bothering to pause to ask for directions. As they left the room, they heard Remus begin the conversation with a question.

"Helen, have you ever noticed odd things happening around Hermione when she's experiencing extreme emotions? When she's very happy or sad? Or angry?"

Hermione's head jerked as she heard the question, remembering several incidents which had only furthered the alienation from her classmates. As she was about to speak, Harry tugged her arm and they stepped out into the Granger's backyard.

* * *

At the very moment Remus and Harry walked through the front door of the Granger's house, Nymphadora Tonks was sitting in a waiting room of the Department of Muggle Relations.

She had graduated Hogwarts the previous week and woken up the morning after with a splitting headache. As she'd rolled around in her bed the realization that she was still wearing the vomit stained robes she had fallen asleep in had forced its way into her mind, as well as her nose. Sighing through her mouth, Tonks sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, then rubbed her face vigorously for a minute before a light cough interrupted her.

"Sarah, don't even start," hissed Tonks. "I'll figure out what I did last night after I have a shower and find some clean clothes."

"No need to search for clothes, Miss Tonks," said a voice that absolutely did not belong to her roommate of seven years. "I believe these should suffice."

Recognizing the voice of her Headmaster, Tonks froze. Her face was fortunately still in her hands, and the only indication that she had heard Albus was the bright red hue her hair changed to that bordered on fluorescent. With a sigh, she glanced up to see the glowing face of Albus Dumbledore. In his hands were a set of witches robes and his wand.

"Now Miss Tonks, if you would stand up I will perform a cleaning charm. I have a need to speak with you in my office now that you have finally finished your education."

Tonks nodded and, in her attempt to extricate herself from her sheets, tangled her legs and fell face first out of her bed. Almost instantly, Albus was helping her up and Tonks' humiliation reached new heights as she observed that the vomit that had been limited to her graduation robes and her bed was now being transferred onto the bright yellow fabric that the Headmaster wore.

After they were both standing, Albus performed the necessary cleaning charms on both of them, and then offered to do a similar charm for her mouth.

"No sir, it's...well," Tonks hesitated. "It's not my vomit."

Albus stared into her eyes for a moment before he grinned widely. "Ah, young Mister Weasley. He does so remind me of his brother."

Ignoring the fact that the Headmaster had seemingly read her mind, Tonks nodded and grabbed the offered robes from the man, who quickly left the dorm with the promise that he would wait downstairs in the Hufflepuff common room.

As she sat, waiting for a meeting with the father of the boy who had vomited on her the night of her graduation, Tonks reflected on the conversation she'd had that morning with Albus Dumbledore. He'd explained that, although she had already been accepted to the Auror program, the newly created Department of Muggle Relations was in desperate need of qualified wizards and witches. Specifically, wizards and witches who had the ability to handle combat situations as well as blend in with and imitate Muggles. Her training would be similar to the Auror program, though not as intensive and would only last for two years instead of the three that the Aurors required.

The door across from Tonks opened and a man wearing a Muggle suit stepped out. Slightly confused at the man's appearance, Tonks rose and stepped forward hesitatingly. The man smiled at her and nodded, then stepped into the hallway, leaving Tonks behind in her confusion.

After another moment, a witch, wearing witches robes Tonks noticed with relief, stepped out and welcomed her. She was guided to a door and preceded by the witch, who announced her.

"Director. Miss Tonks is here for your appointment."

Tonks entered the office as the voice of Director Weasley acknowledged her arrival. He stood and walked over to her, and Tonks grinned at the familiar sight of Arthur Weasley. She had spoken with him several times over the years, mostly at quidditch matches as they both watched Charlie chasing the snitch. As a friend of his son's, as well as having a Muggle-born father, the eldest Weasley had taken an interest in her. Arthur had interrogated her several times on what it was like living in a Muggle environment. When she had explained that her family only spent a few months a year living in Muggle London, it had not deterred him in the least. She had last seen him the night of graduation, but he hadn't spoken to her beyond a heartfelt congratulations.

Grabbing her in a hug, Arthur welcomed her and pushed her gently into a seat. Sitting down across from her at his desk, Arthur steepled his hands and stared at her intently for almost a full minute without saying anything. Tonks stared back at him and smiled a moment after he did. Arthur slapped his hands down on the desk and chuckled.

"Oh, Miss Tonks, this is most excellent. I'm truly looking forward to working with you!"

Tonks gasped, but did her best to disguise it as a normal breath. "What about an interview, sir? Professor Dumbledore explained to me that this job would be similar to the Aurors. Isn't there something I need to do..." Tonks let the words hang in the air as she saw Arthur shake his head and continued to chuckle.

"No, no, Miss Tonks. I believe all the information I need has already been presented to me. The fact that you are familiar with the Non-Magical world and were already accepted as an Auror Trainee would have convinced me did I not already have other information."

"Other information?" asked Tonks.

"Indeed," agreed Arthur mysteriously. He stood. "Now, if you'll allow me to introduce you to your supervisor, you can get started with the necessary paperwork and begin anytime this week. Or the next, if you'd prefer. I imagine you'd like some time to unwind and relax after having taken your NEWT's last month. Your scores were excellent, by the way. Much better than my own."

Tonks blushed and nodded, standing along with him as he led her out of his office and down a brightly lit corridor. It appeared to be very different than the lighting she was used to after seven years at Hogwarts and her various trips to the Ministry over the past few months to apply for the position in the Auror Department.

"Are these Muggle lights, sir?"

Arthur looked up and then back at the young woman walking along side him. "Why yes, they are!" he gushed excitedly. "We decided that it would make our Muggle visitors, such as Mr. Eastham, who you saw leaving my office a few minutes ago, more comfortable. Every little bit helps, and after going through the atrium, it seemed only fair to give them a little taste of normality. They're powered by magic, of course. Amazing spell. Very interesting. You'll be meeting the wizard who created it this evening if you have the time for a small reception."

She nodded dumbly in response as the two continued walking and arrived at a door. In large gold letters that were apparently held on by Muggle nails, the name _Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of Non-Magical Interference Administration _sparkled. Tonks gasped again, this time not bothering to hide it.

"Shacklebolt is one of the head Aurors! I didn't realize he worked for the Muggle Relations Department, too."

As he knocked on the door, Arthur responded. "He does now. He's not an Auror. Not anymore, at least. Minister Bones assigned him and three other Aurors to this department a few months ago. They'll be in charge of containing all Non-Magical exposure to our world, as well as assisting Non-Magical police and government forces in any joint situations. In the unfortunate cases where obliviation is necessary, they'll also take care of that. It will put much less stress on the rest of the Ministry."

As they entered the office of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks' eyes widened at the group of people standing around the former Auror's desk. She didn't know many of them, but two of them she recognized immediately from her previous visits to the Ministry. Two others she recognized because of their fame. Kingsley was standing in front of a large white wall, pointing his wand at various moments, causing writing to appear. Nadia Chalmers, another former Auror sat on the corner of Kingsley's desk taking notes with what Tonks knew to be a Muggle ball point pen. Standing in the corner, one of the most famous Aurors of the past hundred years, 'Mad-Eye' Moody, watched them as his magical eye spun wildly after locking onto Arthur and Tonks the moment they had stepped into the room. The fourth person, standing by himself against the wall, caused Tonks' breath to catch in her throat.

"Sirius!" she whispered loudly, causing everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and look over at the new arrivals.

Her favorite cousin stared at her for a moment before grinning widely. "Little Nymphadora! I haven't seen you since you were this high," he sniggered, his hand reaching down to his knees.

The moment he had used the offensive name her parents had saddled her with, Tonks' wand had emerged from her wrist holster. Her hair had changed into a dark red with flashes of purple streaking through it like sheets of falling rain.

"You might be my favorite cousin, but do _not _use that name!"

A bolt of light shot from her wand toward Sirius, causing him to let out an effeminate "Eep!" and dive to the ground. None of the others were near the spell, which hit the wall with a shower of sparks and a loud _hiss _that resembled a small amount of water being dropped in a frying pan. After a moment, a small black mark was the only indication that a spell had been cast. Several of the Aurors had their wands out immediately and pointed at Tonks, but held back when Sirius stirred.

"Woah!" shouted Sirius, his hands raised in defeat as slowly rose to his feet. His younger cousin still had her wand pointed at his face, though her hair had calmed considerably and only appeared to be a solid, angry red.

"I'm sorry, okay? Jeez, Tonks. Give me a break. I haven't seen you in ten years!"

"You're right. Sorry," Tonks apologized sheepishly as she lowered her wand arm. Sirius took a breath and turned to Kingsley, who was smirking at him. "I suppose this is the recruit you were telling me about?"

Kingsley nodded. Sirius was about to complain about being surprised when Kingsley's eyes widened comically and the former Auror put his hand over his mouth. Before he could process this, Sirius was thrown violently across the room, his legs catching on the desk, causing him to flip end over and land on his back. When he tried to speak, all that came out was gibberish. The rest of the room started laughing at him as Moody strolled up to the perpetrator and slapped Tonks on the back heartily.

"Merlin's testes, girl. You really know how to pack a punch. No wonder they wanted you over in the Aurors."

Her satisfaction at getting back at her older cousin, who had played many a prank on her before he had been taken to Azkaban, was tempered by the amount of attention she was now receiving, especially from the grizzled ex-Auror.

Kingsley attempted to reverse the hex several times before looking questioningly at his newest employee.

Tonks cleared her throat nervously, not so sure now that it had been such a great idea to walk into a meeting and start flinging magic around. "It should wear off in a few minutes. I didn't put a lot into it."

"Gods, woman," breathed Nadia. "I want to see what you can do when you put some oomph into your spells. I wouldn't say no to watching you try some out on Sirius, either. It might do him some good."

Sirius tried to laugh sarcastically, but all that came out was the sound of a chicken clucking. Arthur helped him up and pulled him out of the room as the rest of the people present introduced themselves to Tonks.

* * *

Harry was having about as much fun as Sirius at the moment. He was cowering in front of an extremely angry Hermione. The realization that even without a wand, she was still a scary witch, had hit him just as he had gotten to the idea of magic existing.

"Why are you here? What is that man saying to my mother? Answer me!" screamed Hermione, causing Harry to try to pull the ground up and over him. It didn't work.

"Hermione, wait! Stop yelling at me for a minute and I'll show you! Okay?"

The bushy-haired girl appeared to give the idea a moment of thought before slapping him in the shoulder and stalking back inside. Harry rubbed his face with his hand and stood to follow her.

As he turned the corner to enter the living room, he ran right into Hermione's back. She didn't seem to notice and after Harry got no response to his apology, he glanced over to where Remus and Helen were sitting and smiled. His friend was levitating the coffee table while the various items that had been sitting on it swirled around the room, orbiting Remus' and Helen's heads in a sloppy figure eight.

A glance at Hermione and her mother indicated that both of them were slack jawed with surprise. Harry entered the room fully and cleared his throat. Remus' eyes shifted slightly and he swished his wand to place everything back to its previous position. The two Grangers stared at the coffee table for a moment before shifting their gaze almost simultaneously toward Remus. He smiled gently and placed his wand on the coffee table. The women's eyes followed his hand and rested on the wand after he sat back, seemingly totally at ease.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "How...how did you do that?"

"Magic," Harry answered for Remus who simply nodded in confirmation.

"But-" Hermione sputtered incoherently for a moment before regaining control of herself. "That had to have been a trick! I've seen things like that on TV. Is that all you can do? Why do you use that?" she asked, pointing at the wand on the table. "I can't believe this! Can you make things disappear? Or appear? What about medicine? Is it dangerous? How long do you need to study to learn to do magic?"

She gasped in realization. Remus started to speak, but Harry shook his head in his friends direction. Hermione almost shouted her guess. "The school you were talking about is a magic school! Isn't it?" She shot her mother a look but the older woman still seemed to be in shock that her little girl was a witch and that magic, real and true magic, had just been performed in her living room.

Remus decided to let Harry handle the girl's plethora of questions being that he was much more used to what she required in the way of answers.

"Well," Harry began. "What Remus just did is a complex version of a levitation spell that you'll learn in your first few months at Hogwarts. And yes, it's a school where people learn magic. There's much more that you can do with magic, including magical medicine and potions that can be used for many different things. Here," he drew his wand from his holster and showed it to Hermione who gaped at it for a moment before reaching out as if she wanted to touch it before coming to her senses. Remus snorted at this sight, causing Harry to blush at the thought of what Sirius would say to him after Remus told his godfather about the incident that night.

Smiling at the stunned girl, Harry pointed his wand at one of the unoccupied chairs in the room and transfigured it into a small toy car. With another wave of his wand, it turned into a black leather recliner, and a final wave returned it to its original form. Hermione looked as if she were about to burst with questions but Harry held up his hand, causing her to frown furiously at him.

"Now, I know you have hundreds of questions about magic, but you can't start practicing it until we've gotten you a wand and your textbooks."

At the mention of textbooks Hermione's face lit up, causing Harry and Remus to smile and her mother to groan as she finally snapped out of her stupor.

Harry continued, further exciting his old, and hopefully new, friend. "I also have an extensive library at my house. There are thousands of books, and many of them are out of print and extremely rare."

With that, Hermione squealed like the eleven year old she was and jumped on Harry, squeezing him tightly.

"Hermione," he gasped. "Need...breathe. Remus...help!"

The older man continued to sit, laughing to himself and sharing a smile with Helen. After a moment, Hermione seemed to realize she was hugging a complete stranger who she had been berating only moments earlier. She stepped back quickly and began to apologize before being shushed by Harry.

"Not a problem. I was hoping you'd be able to come by our place," he waved, indicating Remus, "and spend some time with me, Remus and my godfather. We don't have many guests, but it would give you a chance to experience the magical world a bit before we go to Diagon Alley and buy your things."

Hermione stared at him wide eyed and Harry didn't know exactly what to say as she started to tear up. He glanced at Remus who was smiling at him and Hermione, then saw that Helen had the same shimmer in her eyes that her daughter did.

"You want me to come to your house?" asked Hermione with a bit of a catch in her voice.

"Absolutely," stated Harry emphatically. "I don't get to spend much time with anyone...my age. And I just got back from an eight month trip around the world with this guy," he pointed to Remus again, "and my godfather, Sirius. I wouldn't mind having someone new to talk to. I _really _wouldn't mind," Harry did his best to convince Hermione that he wanted to spend time with her. The plan they had come up with was risky. Bill and a few others had questioned the idea of telling a Muggle-born who had just been informed that she was a witch about Harry's unintentional universe jumping, but after various explanations and several trips into Harry's past with the pensieve, all had reluctantly agreed. Harry's reasoning was simple. Hermione was easily the smartest person he had ever met and in his opinion, the only friend his age that would be able to accept what had happened. He had agreed that if Hermione didn't handle it well, that she would have to be obliviated, but was confident in her ability to wrap her mind around the situation.

Harry was torn from his reverie by Hermione rambling a list of questions at him. Chuckling at her as well as the look of resignation on the face of her mother, Harry spent the next hour or so doing his best to answer her questions. Eventually Remus interrupted them.

"Harry, we need to get going. We have several things to prepare for tonight, and you need to reset the wards on the Manor before everyone arrives. And I think Sirius wanted us to get him some film for his camera to catch Tonks' reaction to your news."

They shared a smirk at the thought and left the Grangers with promises to contact them in the next couple of days. As they strolled toward the deserted alleyway where they had apparated in, Remus turned to Harry and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Do you really think she'll be able to understand everything, Harry?"

"Yes, she will. If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that you should never underestimate Hermione Granger's mind. I doubt whatever universe I'm in is going to change that fact."

Remus nodded as they entered the alleyway and disapparated away with quiet, twin pops.

* * *

Tonks had finished filling out the various pieces of parchment necessary for working in the Ministry earlier that afternoon. A light lunch with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nadia Chalmers had followed where they answered her questions about the new department and what exactly was involved with working for the Non-Magical Interference Administration. Overall, it had been a very enlightening day, and she had managed to trip and crash to the floor only once in front of her new boss.

Now she was again sitting outside of Arthur Weasley's office, waiting for the Director to finish for the day as he was escorting her to, of all places, Potter Manor, for the evening's reception. That had been a bit of a shock. Ever since the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Tonks had been just as curious as any other witch or wizard about the location and life of Harry Potter. The idea that she would be meeting him in a short while was causing butterflies in her stomach.

When the door opened and Arthur stepped out of his office, Tonks put down the Daily Prophet and stood to greet him. He smiled at her and the two of them walked out of the department together. They made their way to the portkey terminal as Arthur asked her if she had any other questions about the job or the department that Kingsley and Nadia had been unable to answer.

"No, sir. The two of them answered all my questions. I'm surprised at the amount of information the Ministry is sharing with the Muggles, though."

Arthur nodded. "It is quite a change. It's something I'm very much in favor of, and have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sure you remember me asking you all sorts of questions about Non-Magicals when you were at Hogwarts."

She agreed, then realized she did have a question to ask. "Sir-"

Arthur interrupted her. "Tonks, when we're not in the office, please call me Arthur. This isn't the DMLE, and I've known you for years."

Tonks smiled and continued. "Right. Arthur, I noticed you don't use the term 'Muggle.' Is there a reason for that? I haven't heard anyone else use the term before."

"Well, in one of my first meetings with the Prime Minister, he indicated that most Non-Magical people would probably find the term insulting. In North America, they refer to Non-Magicals as 'mundanes', but he didn't much like that either. We agreed on Non-Magical, especially since we're called 'magical' in most Non-Magical circles."

"No one else seems to have a problem using 'Muggle.'"

"That's true," agreed Arthur with a sigh. "But since I am the main liaison between the ministries, I try to use 'Non-Magical' whenever possible. Keeps me from slipping up, you understand?"

"Gotcha," said Tonks.

"I'm doing my best to get others in the department to stop using 'Muggle,' but it's hard to break people of a habit that they've had their entire lives."

Tonks had no response for that as they entered the portkey terminal. Arthur picked up the portkey and waved her over. A small, yellow Muggle cigarette lighter sat in his hand and the two of them grasped an end each before Tonks felt the familiar tug behind her naval as they spun away to their destination.

Landing with all the grace and poise she could muster, Tonks managed to only fall to one knee. Arthur assisted her in standing up and she looked upon Potter Manor.

If she was going to be completely honest, it was much smaller than she was expecting. Only two stories tall, it was a beautiful home, but not much more than a normal house. A large house, to be sure, but still quite understated. She knew the Potter family was wealthy, probably one of the wealthiest in Britain, and her respect grew for the past generations that hadn't felt the need to flaunt their power and wealth ostentatiously. She only hoped that Harry Potter was similar to his ancestors.

They walked up a long cobblestone path that passed through a beautiful garden. Tonks stumbled a few times on the uneven ground, especially as distracted as she was by the various flowers and other ornamentation scattered about. An area full of stunning orange and red flowers drew her eye, and Tonks stopped and stared at them. Arthur paused when he realized what she was looking and retraced his steps back to her.

"They're Asian Lilies," he informed her.

"They're beautiful," she whispered.

"Some sort of hybrid Harry and your cousin found while they were traveling. Harry does some gardening here, apparently."

A jolt of realization hit her suddenly and Tonks rocked back on her heels, jerking her hand away from one of the flowers she had been about to touch.

"His mother," she said. "Her name was Lily, wasn't it? James and Lily Potter?"

Arthur gave her a tight lipped grin and nodded.

"Arthur, why are we here? I mean, why Potter Manor? It makes no sense." They had started walking again, and Arthur merely shrugged his shoulders.

"It will all make sense to you very soon, Tonks. It's not my place to say, though."

They arrived at the front door and before Arthur's fist could touch it, it opened swiftly to reveal a house elf who was grinning up at them expectantly.

"Ah, the lastest of Master's guests be arriving. Good, good! My names is Sarey, and I is Master Harry's house elf. Master Harry, Moony and Padfoot is waiting with other guests in The Den."

"Thank you, Sarey. You've been a great help," said Arthur. The elf beamed up at him and disappeared with a quiet _pop_. Tonks didn't have much experience with house elves outside of Hogwarts, but the few she had met hadn't seemed half as happy as Sarey. Her positive feeling toward the coming meeting, as well as Harry Potter, increased yet again.

Arthur led her through several rooms and down a long hallway. Along the way, Tonks observed that all the rooms they passed through were tasteful and homey. It was nothing like she expected an ancient pureblood family's house to look. One room appeared to contain a Muggle pool table as well as several other Non-Magical entertainment devices.

Eventually they entered what she assumed was The Den, and she was for shocked for what felt like the tenth time that night. Sitting in the room was a grouping of people she had never expected to meet in such a casual situation. She had also not expected Sirius to be standing in the middle of the group facing her, holding a camera.

A loud and bright _flash _caused her to blink several times, and when she could see again, a cloud of purple smoke seemed to hang over the gathered group's heads. Sirius was laughing at her and most of the others were smiling with the exception of 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

Gathered in front of her was a collection of some of the most powerful and influential wizards and witches in Britain.

The first person she noticed besides Sirius was Albus Dumbledore, which caused her to think back to their meeting the previous week suspiciously. Next to him was her former transfiguration professor, Minerva McGonagall. Tonks' direct superior, Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting at the middle of a long wooden table, holding a bottle of what appeared to be Muggle beer.

Also sitting at the table was the Minster of Magic. Tonks began opening her mouth repeatedly as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Next to her was Michelle Alton, who had been a year above her at Hogwarts and a fellow 'Puff. They had spoken occasionally and Tonks recalled that the older girl had helped her study for her OWL's a couple of years ago.

Glancing at Moody, she saw he was scanning around the room constantly with his magical eye, as if he were searching for an invader or impostor. Standing in a small group on the other side of Sirius were two men she didn't recognize and former Head Boy Bill Weasley, Arthur's oldest son. As she stared at them, trying to figure out who the other two men were, one about Sirius' age and the other looking as if he were approaching the Headmaster's age, she spotted a goblin speaking to a black haired boy. A boy with a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

She noticed he was glancing at her occasionally and whispering something to the goblin in a language that was definitely not English. The goblin responded in the same language and both of them laughed.

Arthur finally spoke up, though it had only been a few seconds, to Tonks it had felt like much longer.

"Well, Miss Tonks, I think you know most of the people here, but we'll do some introductions anyway." He led her over the one end of the group. Her old professors greeted her warmly, as did Sirius, who promised to get her back for the spell she had cast on him that morning.

Next up was Remus Lupin, who seemed to gaze at her speculatively but appeared friendly enough. Bill Weasley greeted her like an old friend, though they hadn't spoken much while at school. Arthur introduced her to Harry and the goblin, whose name was Rockspear. The goblin asked her to call him 'Rock' and grinned at her, showing off his impressive teeth. Tonks managed to smile back and then complimented Harry on his home and especially the garden. He looked pleased at her appreciation and then took over the introductions, to her surprise.

"This, as you know," he began, "is Minister Bones. Amelia, this is Tonks. Just Tonks. Right?" he asked, looking up at her. She nodded, shocked at both his knowledge of her preference in names and the familiarity he had with the Minister. Michelle greeted her after that and smiled in what appeared to be a very satisfied manner. Kingsley merely nodded and tipped his beer toward her in acknowledgment.

The last person to be introduced was the older looking man that Tonks had originally seen speaking with Bill and Remus Lupin. He had somehow made his way over to her old Headmaster and Albus took the opportunity to introduce his friend.

"Miss Tonks, may I introduce to you, my mentor, Nicolas Flamel."

The old man, and now that Tonks knew who he was he seemed much older than Albus Dumbledore, bowed deeply and kissed her hand, which had been offered for a handshake. Blushing slightly and realizing any attempt to speak would only embarrass her, Tonks smiled and nodded her head.

Albus' eyes twinkled merrily as the rest of the group began to take their seats. Nicolas guided her gently toward a seat across from Harry, who had Rock and Sirius on either side of him. After a moment, everyone was seated and Harry stood, though due to his height he didn't stand any taller than he sat.

"Now," he began. "All of you here are people that I trust. All of you know why we are here except for Tonks, and she's about to find out."

Minerva leaned forward a fraction and spoke. "Mr. Potter, is there a reason you've decided to share your secret with Miss Tonks in such a setting?" Her tone held a hint of disapproval.

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "It's a favor for Sirius."

With that explanation, Sirius smiled widely and Tonks began to feel a bit of foreboding.

"This is the first time all of us have been together, but everyone knows everyone, right? Except for Nicolas, but he's a bit of a hermit."

Tonks stared at the young boy in front of her. The fact that he was the one running the meeting, apparently senior to Albus and Nicolas Flamel, two of the most famous and ancient wizards in history, had shocked her initially. Now that he was jokingly insulting the man who had created the Philosopher's Stone, Tonks was waiting for the adults to end the charade.

Therefore, she was even more shocked when Flamel only chuckled and Albus nodded and said, "That's true. I have seen more of Nicolas in the past year than I have since I taught transfiguration."

Faint laughter could be heard around the table and Tonks missed much of the rest of Harry's introduction before the boy turned and looked directly at her. When he was sure he had her attention, he raised his eyebrow and grinned at her.

"Tonks, you might be wondering how I know you are trustworthy. Am I right?"

She nodded absently.

"Well," he continued. "I have something I need to tell you. The first few people I told were required to make an Unbreakable Vow to never reveal the information, but at this point all I need is your word that anything you are told here tonight you will not share with anyone not present. Can you promise me that?"

She nodded again, but Harry shook his head at her with a smile.

"Tonks, I need you to say it. I want you to swear that what I'm about to tell you will stay secret. It's crucial."

The significant looks she was getting from the others at the table finally broke through the impression she had that this was all a joke. A ten year old boy was leading the most powerful people in magical Britain. They were all deferring to him. And he was asking her, Nymphadora Tonks, to join them. A small part of her mind wondered what Michelle and her cousin had to do with this. Eventually, after meeting almost everyone's eyes, she spoke a bit shakily.

"I, Nymphadora Tonks," Sirius snorted and she sent him a glare. "do solemnly swear never to reveal the information I am about to receive to anyone outside of this room."

A slight glow enveloped her and spread to the rest of the table, quickly fading away until it hovered over only her again. Then it vanished, and Tonks looked expectantly at Harry once again.

"Great!" he exclaimed, sounding like she imagined a young boy should. "Now, there's no easy way to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it. Tonks, I might look like I'm ten, but in reality my mind, and my magic, is that of a thirty-one year old Auror. I somehow ended up coming back in time and created an alternate universe because of the changes I made. In my universe, I defeated a resurrected Voldemort several times until I finally defeated him for good in what would have been my seventh year at Hogwarts."

Harry paused for a second, and seeing the look of bewilderment on Tonks' face, nudged Sirius. His godfather nodded, pulled his camera out and snapped a picture of his cousin's face. The speed at which her expression changed from confusion to rage caused most of those at the table cringe, and Moody to bark out a bitter laugh. The scarred ex-Auror's own reaction had been somewhat similar, though he was loathe to admit it after the fact.

"Sirius! Is this your great idea of a prank?" screamed Tonks as she prepared to lunge over the table and strangle her cousin.

A boom from the other side of the table made everyone stare at Albus, who had confetti and streamers falling around his head. The Headmaster looked baffled for a moment before grinning lazily. Nicolas answered her question.

"No, Miss Tonks. That is a prank. What young Harry is telling you is the absolute truth. If you have any doubt, you should be prepared to doubt the word of every person sitting at this table."

Tonks stared around at the others and, seeing their faces, closed her eyes trying to process the information she had been given. After a moment, Harry spoke again, slowly and confidently.

"Tonks, I have several memories prepared in my pensieve for you to view. The Tonks I knew in my universe is in several of them. I assume you know that it's impossible to falsify memories beyond extremely crude alterations?"

She confirmed she knew that and was led into the next room by Harry and Bill. They explained to her how to operate the device and that there were about ninety minutes worth of memories for her to view. If she needed more proof after that, they could discuss it.

After Tonks had vanished into Harry's memories, the two friends reentered The Den to witness a discussion about who exactly had pranked Albus so thoroughly. Sirius was denying everything emphatically as he was accused repeatedly by Michelle and Kingsley. Albus apparently had decided that Nicolas was responsible, and only Amelia, Moody and Remus were remaining silent. Harry and Bill shared a look then glanced over at the werewolf, who shook his head negatively. Then, with a surreptitious glance at the other side of the table, Remus tilted his head toward the Minster of Magic. Harry stared at Amelia openmouthed for a second before her eyes met his and she winked stealthily. Shaking his head, he turned back to Bill.

"It's late enough for a drink, right?"

Bill nodded. "If you can find where Sirius hid the firewhiskey, sure. I'm going to have a beer. Remember, only two drinks or Remus will get pissy. Again."

Harry grunted that he had heard his warning and left the room in search of Sarey.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey Guys! So, only a two month wait. I hope someone is still willing to read the story. Anyway, I have a few ideas for some flashbacks to the trip around the world that Sirius, Remus and Harry took. It was about eight months with a few visits back to England. Also, I'm sure some of you are interested in the reactions of some of the other members of The Trust when they found out about Harry. So let me know what you want. I don't have to do the flashbacks and can just have stuff mentioned in passing, especially the trip around the world, as some of the stuff that happened during that time is important to the story. But it's up to you.

So, **REVIEW**! And let me know what you want me to do, and if you think this chapter is good, bad, ugly, beautiful, or whatever. Please review. Reviews are like crack, and I don't want to have to start smoking crack...it's not very good for you.

**A/N2: **Oh, and go read anything by **nonjon**. Seriously. Anything. 21 great stories. Amazing stuff. Do it. Now.

* * *


	13. I Feel Home

_Hey everyone. I know this was a fast update (sarcasm of doom) but I thank you for your patience. I had lots of stuff happening in my life that can be summed up by one word. Laziness. I did, however, start a new, better paid, and just generally fantastic teaching job. I also got engaged. Crazy, huh? Anyway, now that I've settled into my new circumstances, I hope to start writing regular chapters again. _

_And, once again, I apologize for the long wait. For whatever reason, there are many of you that really like this story, and I know the feeling when a story you enjoy goes on hiatus or the author just vanishes. So here's the latest chapter. Hope you like it._

* * *

**I Feel Home**

Sirius and Remus stood on Platform 9 and Three Quarters and watched the column of steam rise from the Hogwarts Express as it neared the horizon. It was the first time in fifteen years that either man had stood on the magical platform in Kings Cross Station. Even so it had taken some pleading from Harry for them to come see him off to his second first year. They both appeared to be lost to nostalgia as Arthur Weasley approached through the dissipating crowd of families.

"You two fancy a pint? Tom has a private room waiting for us, if you're interested."

Sirius started to answer affirmatively but caught the look Remus was sending him and relented. "Thanks, Arthur. I suppose we should probably floo up to Hogsmeade, though. It wouldn't be seemly to have the two newest Hogwarts professors show up pissed, would it?

Arthur nodded his understanding, wished them well until the next time they planned to meet, during the first quidditch game of the season, and departed with Molly and Ginny in tow to meet Amelia and the senior staff of the Department of Non-Magical Relations. Remus began to head for the disapparation point before noticing that Sirius was not next to him. Turning around, he saw his friend staring at his feet with both hands clenched at this sides. Slowly approaching the former convict, Remus gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

Sirius shook his head and looked up. "When do you think I'll be able to say 'yes'?"

With a sigh, Remus responded. "When you know you'll be able to say 'no,' I suppose."

* * *

November 27, 1990

The three wizards sat in a cafe in Cologne, Germany. Remus had argued against allowing Harry to join them, but between Sirius' completely illogical argument of repeating, "Come on, Moony!" and Harry's Hermione-like systematic presentation of various medical studies that proved limited amounts of alcohol would not impair his development, he finally gave up. Thanks to a few glamours, as well as a slight variation on the _confundus_ charm which made it nearly impossible for muggles to place their accent or remember many details of their appearance, Harry had had no trouble gaining entrance to the cafe.

The three of them were currently debating muggle politics with a pair of extremely inebriated fellow patrons. The two older German men were fairly proficient at English, but the alcohol, subject matter and general noise level was limiting all of their thought processes. The taller man sitting across from Sirius was getting a bit red in the face, and Remus hoped that the color was from the beer and not in response to some idiotic, drunken statement about the American political system that Sirius was truly clueless about, yet continually discussed.

Harry, with the appearance of a young man just past his sixteenth birthday, was walking back from the toilets with a enough of a sway that Remus had to bite his tongue. Trying to discipline Harry was not only pointless, it was impossible. Harry was a grown man, even if he didn't look it, and in truth had lived a more dangerous, responsible and even (Remus had to admit) adult life than Remus himself. So, shaking off the urge to comment on how much of the strong German beer Harry had drunk, Remus smiled and nodded to the disguised time-traveler.

Harry glanced at him and grinned back, looking every bit the sixteen year old he was imitating. He'd seemingly perfected the role in the two months they'd been traveling in Europe. It was nearing Christmas at this point, and the trio had decided to head for Paris the next day to spend Christmas with the Flamel's after spending the first half of December traveling through magical France.

The first month had mostly been a tour of Ancient Magical Egypt and Mesopotamia, the oldest recorded magical civilizations. Remus had been fascinated by almost everything and had to be constantly shepherded onward by Harry and Sirius. Ancient temples and magical palaces hidden in the desert were not a rarity in that part of the world, and thanks to Rock's guidance, they didn't have to stumble through the hot sands searching for them.

Harry tolerated Remus' curiosity to the point that Sirius almost had a nervous breakdown as he stood around waiting for his friend to finish his inspections. Sirius did not have the same interest in historical magical areas as Remus, and the local magical culture was even more conservative and stuck in the past than England. Remus tried to explain that it was mainly attributable to fall of the magical Egyptian civilization as well as the rise of Persian and European magical cultures. Sirius explained it a bit more simply. "Bloody boring," tended to be one of the most common phrases the freed convict spoke during their weeks in the Middle East.

Sirius was definitely not unintelligent, thought Remus, as he eavesdropped on the debate his friend was still having with the two Germans in the cafe. He just did not have much natural curiosity, especially involving magical history. Remus amended that to include muggle history, as well, when he heard what Sirius was saying.

"Now, I may not be an American," exclaimed Sirius, gesticulating a bit drunkenly. "But I can tell you one thing. Those blokes in Mesopotamia," Remus winced a bit at the slip, but the muggles apparently were educated enough to know what he was talking about.

"They are a strange folk," Sirius continued. "And this Bush fellow knows what he's talking about. You can't let people like this mug- Minister they have start invading countries and whatnot without standing up to him. If you let him do what he wants when he's weak, who knows what he'll do in a year or two? Right? Am I right?" Sirius punctuated his statement with a large and somewhat messy series of gulps from his beer stein.

Harry sat down in the seat next to Remus and took a sip from his own beer before asking, "Are they still talking muggle politics?"

Remus nodded. "I just keep hoping that he won't say anything too bizarre for them, or we are going to have to skip out of here in a hurry." Harry grunted his agreement and glanced over at the men Sirius was talking to. He hadn't been able to hear what they were saying very well because of the music and crowd in the cafe. It wasn't shoulder to shoulder yet, but it was still early and there were definitely not enough seats for the current number of customers.

Just then the music began to die down a bit, and the volume of the crowd lowered correspondingly. Almost simultaneously, Sirius began to speak again, but at the same volume he had been using to be heard over the din of the cafe.

"I mean, you two know what I'm talking about! You had what's his name as a leader, right? Hippy? Hickler? What was his name? The guy with the funny mustache. That bloody wanker reminds me of the bloke with the funny hat down in the desert."

Remus could see that Sirius had no idea whatsoever that his voice was so loud it carried to the opposite side of the cafe. He looked toward Harry and saw him shut his eyes tightly and drain the rest of his beer in a few gulps. When Harry opened his eyes, he glanced around the suddenly silent room. Remus' eyes followed his and noticed that almost every face was turned in Sirius' direction while the two men he had been speaking to were gaping at him in angry confusion. He waited for what felt like forever for someone to speak before he was started out of his terror by the sound of Harry's chair screeching against the floor.

"Well, I think it's time we head back to the hotel, eh?" said Harry nervously as he placed a few more marks on the table than necessary and grabbed Sirius by the arm to urge him up. Remus joined him and the difficulty their friend had in standing upright made them realize how much he'd had to drink.

The crowd was ominously silent as the trio squeezed through the immovable throng toward the door. As they exited, Remus breathed a sigh of relief that no one had followed them outside. Sirius had been silent since they'd stood up, but with a blast of fresh air suddenly came back to himself and looked at Remus.

"What's going on? Did I say something wrong?"

Remus sighed again as Harry barked out a laugh and gave his godfather a squeeze around the shoulders.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat in the headmaster's chair at the head table in the Great Hall and watched the first years nervously skitter inside. There were four first years, however, that exuded a much different aura. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom did not seem nervous or scared. They appeared to be distracted. Although Hermione was gawking at the ornate banners and other decorations neatly arranged throughout the hall, she appeared to be examining them rather than being awestruck by them. Albus knew that Harry had shown her several memories in the past few weeks during which they had spent a good amount of time together, and he could only conclude that this was not her first experience with the Sorting Ceremony.

Ronald and Neville were not privy to Harry's time-traveling, but the past and future hero (for Albus had no doubt Harry would fulfill his destiny in this universe as well as he had in his own) was doing his very best to keep his new friends amused and not focused on the hundreds of faces that were focused on them. His efforts seemed to have met with some success. While Minerva quieted the students whose faces exhibited the usual shades between white and green, Albus noted that the four he had been discreetly observing only appeared to be vacillating between confidence and mild apprehension.

As Minerva placed the Sorting Hat on its stool, the Hall went silent and awaited its song. Though the timeline had been disrupted for over a year, the song itself was the same. Albus puzzled over that for a moment but resolved to ask the Hat about it when he returned to his office later that evening.

After giving the standard instructions to the new first years, Minerva proceeded to call them up to the Sorting Hat in alphabetical order. Albus watched with mild interest, wondering if any of the students would be sorted differently. Several students later, as they began to approach Hermione's name, nothing had changed from what Harry had shown him in his memory.

"Granger, Hermione." Minerva gave the briefest of smiles to the young girl with the wild hair who carefully walked up to the Sorting Hat. Hermione grinned back quickly and then took a deep breath as she sat down and waited for the hat to cover her head. She felt a slight breeze as the hat was lowered and shut her eyes as she began to take part in a thousand year old tradition.

"_Ah, Miss Granger. Yes.... Yes, I know much about you already. But let me have a look for myself..."_ Hermione attempted to breath calmly as the Sorting Hat flew through her memories, causing a shiver to go up and down her back.

"_Quite a mind you have here, Miss Granger. Indeed, you will certainly help Mr. Potter turn this world inside out. I wish you luck in _GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hat shouted the last word out loud and the Gryffindor table cheered and stomped their feet as the rest of the houses applauded politely, except for Slytherin, which stayed silent except for a few of the younger students and first years. Hermione sighed in relief, knowing that she would be in the same house as her first friend. She knew that Harry was depending on her, not only for help in classes and subjects that he hadn't studied in twenty years, but also to help him clean up any gaffes he made relating to his knowledge of classmates and schoolwork. Helping him appear to the other students in the dorms as a fellow child would be her main mission in the coming year. She would back him up on anything and everything. She just hoped it would be enough.

* * *

January 1, 1991

The international floo station in Chicago, Illinois was a madhouse. Minerva McGonagall raised her chin and did her best to ignore the pandemonium surrounding her as she calmly strode toward the customs desk. She was forced to dodge a few witches and wizards during the short walk, but arrived without incident. She handed the customs official her documentation and waited for the usual inane questions.

"Purpose of your visit?" asked the bored American witch without glancing up.

"I am visiting family," responded Minerva, shortly.

"How long will you be in the United States of Magical America?"

"Three days."

At her answer, the customs witch nodded and the quill floating next to her made an unreadable notation on a piece of parchment that Minerva assumed was a record book of some sort.

The witch handed Minerva her documents and finally glanced up with a false smile. "Enjoy your stay, ma'am. Next!" The last was shouted to the line behind Minerva, who shrunk her documents and continued on to the exit that would magically lead to the women's toilet in Chicago, Midway Airport.

Later that night as she entered her room at the Holiday Inn Minerva let out a small sigh and transfigured her dress back into her witches robes. She loved her nephew and his family greatly, but dealing with two very young children for several hours who wanted nothing more than to play with their 'Aunt Minny' exhausted the Transfiguration professor. She un-shrunk her bags and stepped into the bathroom for a moment. When she emerged, two people were sitting in the chairs near the window of her room.

"Ah!" The scream that escaped from her mouth was startled but her wand was out and pointed at the intruders within a second. Her eyes focused on her two uninvited guests and she let her guard slip just a fraction, recognizing that one of them was a child and the other was Remus Lupin, who would be taking over as the Defense professor in the fall.

Remus, she noticed, appeared a bit startled and was still eyeing her wand warily. The boy, however, was ignoring it completely and grinning cheekily at her. The familiar mischief in his eyes, as well as his general appearance, allowed her to identify him.

"Harry Potter?" she asked, lowering the wand completely, to Remus' relief.

Harry grinned at his once and future professor and friend. "Indeed, and you know Remus, I think?"

Minerva nodded and acknowledged the werewolf before staring at Harry again. He happily noticed she did not look at his forehead, but at his face and then into his eyes. Satisfied, Minerva finally placed her wand back in her robes and almost chuckled at the easing of tension from the older man next to Harry. She had only spoken to her former student briefly the previous summer when Albus had introduced him as the future Defense professor for the following year. Not being required to search at the last minute for a Defense professor was a novel change, but had not been eventful enough to warrant more than a few minutes of polite conversation.

Now she gave him a good look, and was pleasantly surprised. She knew of his affliction, of course, and had noted during their earlier meeting that he seemed to have aged much faster than most his age. Currently, he appeared much healthier and, to her eye, content. Minerva wondered how much the presence of Harry accounted for that.

Bringing herself back to the nascent conversation, Minerva gestured vaguely around her room. "How long have you been in here? I cannot imagine you just walked in while I was in the W.C."

She was looking to Remus for an answer and was somewhat surprised to hear Harry respond.

"We used my fathers old invisibility cloak. I'm sure you remember it."

"Remember it? I would say so," sniffed Minerva. "But that does not excuse the fact that you are in my room without permission. Is there anything that would have prevented you from simply knocking on the door?"

Remus coughed softly and looked down at the floor in what Minerva thought was mock contrition. Harry appeared not at all flustered by her question and again answered.

"Well, you can never be too careful and there's no need for anyone to know we're meeting you here." Harry nodded as if that was the end of it, but Remus spoke up for the first time.

"Harry also wanted to prove to me that your reaction time was better than mine. I never argued that it wasn't, but he kept taunting me all the same. Personally, I think he just wanted to surprise you." Remus said the last while looking at Harry somewhat smugly.

"I see," said Minerva dryly. "Would you care to explain why exactly you desired a secret meeting in my hotel room in Chicago?"

She looked back and forth between the two of them as they exchanged glances. Finally, Harry spoke.

"There's something I need to tell you about myself, Minerva. You should probably have a seat."

She watched as Harry stood and pulled a wand that he wasn't old enough to possess out of his pocket with one hand, and a shrunken case out with the other. He un-shrunk the case and then cast several verbal and nonverbal spells that Minerva couldn't identify save for an extremely strong privacy charm that she had thought only Albus Dumbledore and senior members of the Order of the Phoenix knew. She'd certainly not expected a ten-year old boy to have mastered it.

Taking Harry's advice, Minerva sat down. She didn't stand back up for a long while.

* * *

Albus beamed under his beard as Hermione smiled widely and almost skipped to the Gryffindor table. The next several first years continued the pattern of unknowingly repeating themselves from an alternate timeline. Finally, Neville Longbottom approached the Hat. His earlier confidence seemed to have evaporated and the poor boy was nearly shaking in fright.

Minerva placed a gentle hand on Neville's shoulder in another uncharacteristic display warmth. Neville glanced at her over his shoulder, took a deep breath and nodded. The Hat was placed on his head and Albus watched as the boy's shoulders shifted from tense and bunched into a more natural, relaxed position. Less than thirty seconds later, the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville scrambled off the stool and was halfway to the Gryffindor table before he realized the Sorting Hat was still on his head. Laughing at himself, he turned around and gently handed the Hat back to Minerva who, to Albus' shock, actually chuckled with him and called the next student to be sorted.

As the boy finally sat down next to her at their new house table, Hermione thought back to the pensieve memories that Harry had shown her of their original sorting. The contrast between the two Neville's was extraordinary. She knew that Harry had given him a bit of a pep talk on the train, and she supposed that making a friend or two before getting off the Hogwarts Express would improve his disposition a bit. The boy sitting next to her, still smiling, still radiating confidence, must have had another altered experience from the original timeline. She'd seen the man he would become in Harry's memories, but it had taken years for Neville to get to that point. She wondered what the Sorting Hat had said to him in the brief time it had sat atop his head.

* * *

April 1, 1991

Kingsley Shacklebolt woke up early. That was a fact of life for him. The rare morning he was not up before the sun was usually a morning he had not gone to sleep before it rose. Kingsley knew today was going to be trouble. He just hoped that the trouble limited itself to harmless jokes and pranks, and not something he would be required to respond to as the new supervisor for the Non-Magical Interference Administration sub-department. As he got dressed and picked up his wand he wished again for a normal day, but if wishes were hippogryphs, Kingsley thought, beggars could fly.

His arrival at the Ministry went well in the sense that it was normal and ordinary in every way. His trip in the lift was similarly uneventful. There were a few memo-planes as well as a young wizard Kingsley recognized but didn't know the name of traveling along with him, but none of the memos exploded and the young wizard kept to himself. Walking toward the entrance to the Muggle Relations Department was an interesting experience, as it was every day. Candle and torchlight gave way to a bright, florescent glow. By the time Kingsley reached the door, if he didn't look behind him, he could easily think he was in a modern muggle office building.

With a relieved sigh, Kingsley walked through the door, thankful that there had been no April Fools jokes played on him or near him so far. Inside the office were about fifteen desks as well as a matching number of witches and wizards sitting at them. This was the heart of the Muggle Relations Department. Two large fireplaces sat opposite each other to Kingsley's right and left. These were used for the people in this room to make and receive calls involving magic and magic-users in the muggle world or muggles in the wizarding world.

The four corners of the room led to hallways which housed the four sub-departments: Government relations, Goods and Trade, Techno-magic research and his own Non-Magical Interference sub-department. He walked ahead and to the right, and after going through a couple of more doors, entered his office, where he was promptly hit in the back with a full-body bind and then wrapped in magical ropes.

With an inward sigh, Kingsley watched his mentor reveal himself Mad-Eye Moody cancelled a disillusionment charm.

"Kingsley, that was bloody pathetic! I didn't even need to make myself invisible, you were so wrapped up in your usual thestral shit!" Mad-Eye was spitting his disgust so vehemently that some landed on Kingsley's paralyzed face.

After a minute or so of heated lecturing, in which the phrase 'Constant Vigilance!' was used somewhat sparingly, Kingsley waited for Made-Eye to release the bind. As the scarred former-auror raised his wand to cancel the hex, he himself fell and landed next to Kingsley, paralyzed and tied up as well. The only difference that Kingsley could see, as he laid on his side facing where Mad-Eye had fallen, was that instead of ropes, the old man was tied-up with a vine which was covered in swiftly blooming pink flowers.

Two different laughs, one familiar to both former-aurors as that belonging to Albus Dumbledore, and another that sounded like a child's, filled their ears. The owners of the laughter appeared in Kingsley's line of sight and he watched in surprise as the child looked up at Dumbledore and taunted him.

"'I do not believe you will be able to incapacitate Alastor,' he says. You forgot about that duel we had during training last week."

Albus nodded seriously as he surveyed the two downed men in front of him. "I must admit, even with my knowledge of your abilities, I continue to assume that those with more easily apparent skills will be able to best you."

The bewilderment that Kingsley was unable to express facially were easily visible in his eyes and when Harry glanced down and met his gaze, he started his childish giggling for the second time. When he looked into Moody's single human eye, Harry didn't see confusion, he saw rage. Knowing that Mad-Eye would probably be able to break the bind soon enough, he let Albus take over.

"Hello Kingsley, Alastor. Harry and I have come here today to share information with you about what has been going on these past eight months or so. This is Harry Potter, of whom I believe you know. What you do not, could not know is that Harry has traveled back in time with knowledge of great importance. Now, Harry shall release the hexes that have rendered you unable to respond and then I will request you make use of the pensieve I have brought for the purpose of helping you believe and possibly understand this most unlikely story."

With easy, practiced movements, Harry released Mad-Eye and Kingsley from their paralyses. He waited a moment and watched them squirm in their ropes before releasing those as well. Predictably, Moody pulled his wand out before the ropes were completely vanished. Kingsley stood quickly and surveyed the three people in front of him. His mentor was as agitated as he'd ever seen him, which was understandable, as Kingsley had never seen anyone get the drop on the man before. Dumbledore looked calm and somewhat amused while the boy who was apparently Harry Potter lowered his wand and waited several seconds before Moody did the same.

Albus motioned toward a pensieve sitting on Kingsley's desk that he had placed while the proper occupants of the office had been immobilized on the floor. Inside the ancient stone bowl swirled the silvery substance that Kingsley recognized as memories. He glanced back at the old man and the child who were trying to calm Mad-Eye down and then returned his eyes to the pensieve. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and, after a slight spinning sensation that was familiar to him from countless experiences with recorded memories from when he was an auror, found himself facing himself. But the Kingsley sitting at a simple, yet obviously antique desk was very obviously an older, more well-to-do man than Kingsley had imagined until that moment. An old, bald man who he recognized as his current boss, Arthur Weasley, walked in with someone who could have passed for what Kingsley imagined Harry Potter's father looked like. Suddenly, everything clicked into place and the information given to him in the past few minutes crashed together in his mind.

If this was an April Fools joke, then Kingsley was thoroughly fooled.

* * *

"Potter, Harry," read Minerva from her list. Harry gave Ron a pat on the back and strode confidently forward toward the Sorting Hat. So far, with the exception of faster than previous sortings for Hermione and Neville, everyone was in the houses he remembered from the other timeline.

Of course, almost the entire Great Hall was whispering and pointing at him. Harry thought he spotted the Weasley twins placing a bet at the Gryffindor table a few seats away from the newly sorted first years. He glanced at the head table and gave Remus and Sirius, soon to be announced as the new Defense Professor and Assistant Transfiguration Professor, a grin and a wink. Hermione and Neville had been chatting animatedly with a young girl that Harry had difficulty identifying as Lavender Brown, but now were focused on him as he sat down in front of the Deputy Headmistress.

He felt a draft of air the second before the Sorting Hat was placed on his head and slid down to cover his eyes.

"_Mister Potter, it's good to speak with you again. You have brought me the most entertainment I've enjoyed in quite awhile. I normally allow students to state their preference, even if it is often subconsciously, but I believe we are in agreement as to the house in which you would accomplish the most."_

As he mentally agreed with the Hat, Harry thought he heard an amused snort in his mind right before the name "GRYFFINDOR!" exploded in his ears.

* * *

May 24, 1991

Sirius woke up and fervently wished he hadn't. He waited a moment to open his eyes since the heat on his face most likely meant he was facing the sun. He tried to remember the night before and with the effort came the realization that couldn't remember the past week. Oh, there were bits and pieces of memory that seemed to be jumbled together in some sort of nightmarish montage. The longer he thought about it, the more hazy memories rose in his mind. Along with the bile in his throat.

He rolled over and vomited, spitting and hacking for several moments afterward to get the last of the taste out of his mouth. Sirius could feel dried grass and dirt along his side, as well as the uncomfortable sensation of small rocks digging into his skin.

Finally opening his eyes, Sirius winced in pain at both the light and the tugging sensation of his eyelids coming unstuck from the gunk sealing them. After a moment to orient himself, he glanced down and visually confirmed what he had suspected from the physical sensations his body was sending his somewhat addled mind. He was naked. Or almost naked.

Wearing a pair of white underwear which looked as if they hadn't been washed in weeks, Sirius grimaced and looked around in the vain hope that he'd just had the desire to sleep without pants or a shirt. It wasn't so. He could see no sign of anything resembling clothes and decided he was in a park of some sort, though it was obviously a very run down, if not abandoned, one. After taking a moment to consider, he realized he had no idea of the day or his location.

He stood up carefully. Rising to a sitting position had been difficult enough, and he had no desire to fall back to the ground that he now saw was filthy and had garbage strewn about. His whole body ached and throbbed, especially his head and throat. His mouth tasted worse than any time he could remember and almost caused him to retch again.

Scattered memories of a horrified look on Remus' face as Sirius drunkenly shouted in his friends face clawed their way into his mind. He hoped that the multiple recollections of similar situations were all from the same event and not part of a prolonged alcohol induced argument as they seemed.

After stumbling forward for what felt like an entire day but, based on the painful sun's lack of change in position, had only been a half hour at most, Sirius approached what looked to be an exit from the park. He saw what looked like writing of some sort and a distant part of his mind recognized it as Chinese.

The memories started to come flooding back. Remus and Harry finding him in a narrow dark alleyway around the corner from the hotel the three of them were staying in. Remus asking him to stop, cajoling him, then finally begging. Nothing stopped him from pouring cup after cup of the disgusting but strong Chinese liquor down his throat. He remembered waking up in several different beds, sometimes with a woman, sometimes alone. His clothes had eventually gotten so odorous that eventually he only recalled waking up alone.

His friend and godson had tracked him down more than once, but neither had been willing to use magic to stop him since the Chinese's Magical Ministry was quite strict about foreigners using magic without permission, especially on another person. He had evaded them easily thanks to that.

As he approached the exit, he noticed a small bench. Gratefully, he took a seat and let his head hang back, not caring that his back and legs were sticking to the plastic due to the summer heat.

He woke up to his name being shouted and a slap to the face. Remus and Harry stood over him. Harry held two cloth sacks while Remus was holding his head up with one hand and preparing to hit him again with the other.

"I'm up! I'm up! Merlin, Moony! You don't have to hit me."

Remus dropped his hands to his side and straightened up. "Well, screaming in your face wasn't working, and after living on the streets of Wuhan for almost two weeks I wasn't sure you weren't still piss drunk."

Harry walked to Remus' side and dropped the two sacks next to Sirius on the bench, then crossed his arms, looking as stern as he could in his ten year old body.

"These are your clothes and what the police found in your pockets. Apparently a couple of petty thieves robbed you after you passed out last night but couldn't agree on how to split your meager belongings. The old woman called the police on the younger guy, and both of them got arrested. Muggle Police, unfortunately for them. Luckily, the police asked them where they saw you last."

Sirius shrugged as he dug through the first bag and pulled out his wand and wallet. He grabbed what was left of his watch and frowned at the cracked face and missing wrist band. Nothing else inside of the bag interested him after that. He didn't even have to pull anything out of the second bag to know that it held the clothes he had been wearing during his bender. The smell was evidence enough, like a stronger, professional version of his body odor.

Harry saw the look on his face and answered the question before Sirius could ask it. "No, we didn't bring any other clothes. You have to wear these and then we'll have them cleaned...or disposed of, in the hotel. It's not going to be a holiday for us, either. We have to ride in the taxi with you."

A retort would have normally escaped his mouth without thought, but Sirius was still too bemused at the situation to do more than grunt his understanding. Remus and Harry shared a worried look, something they had done so often in the past few weeks that it was becoming habit, and helped Sirius to a taxi.

* * *

The Sorting Hat had barely touched Ron's head when it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Harry's entire table erupted in cheers. They were led in volume by the Weasley twins, as well as Percy. Harry had not remembered Percy's enthusiasm either because of some slight difference in this universe or because he had been too overwhelmed to pay attention in his original timeline.

Ron trotted to the table excitedly and sat next to Hermione, who blushed after seeing the knowing look in Harry's eyes. She was too young at the moment, as was Ron, to imagine such things, but being the encyclopedia of knowledge that she was, knew what the relationship her alternate self had had with the red head meant.

Albus stood and the Great Hall quieted almost instantly. "Greetings everyone, and welcome to another wonderful year at Hogwarts! I have a feeling that this will be one of the most exciting and interesting years we have had in quite some time." Minerva, despite her best efforts, couldn't hold in a snort. It did not distract Albus, though his welcoming smile seemed to shift somewhat into one of amusement. "Most of the announcements I have can wait until after we eat, as I am sure from the looks on your faces that you are famished. However, I would like to introduce our two new professors.

"Remus Lupin is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and has extensive experience both in dueling and dark creatures of all kinds. His former classmate, Sirius Black will assist Professor McGonagall with Transfiguration and be available for tutoring those of you in your OWL and NEWT years. I ask you all to warmly welcome Professors Lupin and Black to Hogwarts!"

The students all knew the story of Sirius Black's imprisonment in Azkaban, and many were still scandalized that the Ministry had treated him so unfairly. The Great Hall echoed with the applause and shouts of four of the five tables, while Slytherin took its cue from their obviously displeased head of house and did their best to scowl menacingly. Harry cheered as loudly as he could, as did Hermione and Ron, who had taken it personally that Peter Pettigrew had chosen his family to trick into keeping him as a pet rat. A glance at Snape proved that working with the dour Potions professor would probably be even more difficult in this timeline than his original one with the two Marauders sharing the castle with the last living Potter.

"Now," said Albus as the noise began to die down. "It is time to enjoy yet another delicious opening feast." He raised his hands and the tables groaned along with the students at the smorgasbord which appeared before them.

"Please," Albus lifted his goblet, "dig in!"

Harry was distracted from his gluttony by Hermione alternately speaking to him and glancing disdainfully at Ron's eating habits. Harry knew her thoughts were straying from the present to her possible future of falling in love with the boy sitting next to her as he spit food from his mouth as he exclaimed over things he noticed or had been told about Hogwarts. Finally, she dragged her eyes from Ron's mouth and repeated herself to Harry.

"So how do you feel? It must be exciting to be at Hogwarts and be able to stay close to Professor Lupin and Professor Black."

Harry shrugged, doing his best to imitate an eleven-year old. "I guess. I spent most of the last year with them, so I wouldn't mind a bit of a break."

Ron nodded savagely and to both Harry and Hermione's surprise, swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. "I know what you mean, mate. I love hanging out with Bill and Charlie, but if I had them at school with me, watching me all the time..." he shuddered. "I'd go batty. It's going to be bad enough with Percy and the twins."

Harry grinned at him and then returned his attention to Hermione. "I'm just happy, eh? I mean, we're finally here. I think there are worse things that could happen than have the two of them as our professors." Hermione nodded, knowing how truly accurate that statement was. Harry continued, "I haven't felt like this since before, you know? I feel home."

* * *

**A/N: **So, the thing that happens in the bar and to Sirius in China are both true stories, obviously altered to fit the story, but true, nonetheless. I thought they were interesting, and pretty amusing though Sirius' descent into alcoholism is not.

**A/N 2: **McGonagall's family in Chicago is inspired by Harry McGonagall, by Witowsmp. It's a fun story. Check it out.

If you have any questions, write a review! Or send me a message. The e-mail account I use for this story is back online. And if you catch any mistakes (as this is unbeta-ed) let me know.


	14. Undertow

**Undertow**

The library at Malfoy Manor was what most pure-bloods would describe as elegant and charming. Most muggle-borns would have used the word ostentatious. It was a sizable room, just short of cavernous, and lit by several crystal chandeliers accented with gold and various precious stones.

The numerous bookcases were part of the floor and walls and made of white marble. Several stained glass windows allowed ample light in during the day and were accompanied by silver and green armchairs positioned to make best use of the light. The overall impression was of scholarship and wealth.

It was not a room one would expect to find in the home of one of Lord Voldemort's Inner Circle Death Eaters. However, one of the first rules of the magical world was that first impressions were almost always inaccurate.

Lucius Malfoy stood in one of the back rows of his library, next to the body of a muggle who was currently being inhabited by the specter of the Dark Lord. He had been terrified when the slack-jawed man had appeared in his parlor, and his house elves had been equally frightened by his reaction.

A swift explanation, as well as the revelation of the Dark Lord's face imbedded in the back of the muggle's skull, persuaded him to do what he did best. Survive by any means.

"Lucius," hissed the weakened voice of his Lord, "your betrayal is especially painful to me. Of all my subjects, I often thought of you as the most loyal. I gave you power and strength and you repaid me with apathy."

"My Lord, how may I redeem myself?"

The muggle's body staggered for a moment, the muscles controlled by Voldemort were beginning to deteriorate.

"You should have searched for me. I am Lord Voldemort! The name 'Malfoy' is known even on the continent. You have had power in your grasp for over a decade, yet you did nothing. Nothing! You are fortunate that your library is in excellent condition. There may be a way for you to contribute once more."

"How, my Lord?" asked Lucius, desperate to please the abomination in front of him.

"Leave me, Lucius. Soon enough I will have a task for you that shall set my return in motion. I can only hope that you will not fail me again, or both of us will suffer the consequences. You much more so than I, I promise you."

Lucius nodded and bowed, then walked as fast as his dignity would allow out of the library. He let out a shudder as the door closed and wondered with curiosity and dread what the Dark Lord was planning.

* * *

As Harry walked into his second Transfiguration lesson, he smiled to see a large black, grim-like dog sitting to the side of Minerva's desk as she nodded a welcome to the students. She caught his eye and raised her brow in a barely perceptible manner. Harry quashed the pleased look on his face and took a seat at a table in the second row. Hermione took the seat next to him and nudged him gently with a small grin.

Their first two days of classes had gone well. Harry had done his best to imitate his previous first week of classes and spoke in class only when called upon. Hermione had done her best to limit herself. During the summer, Harry had shown her several memories of their years at Hogwarts. He had gently but firmly suggested that it would become obvious very quickly that she was the smartest witch at Hogwarts and that he needed her to act somewhat unexceptionable. Having a friend as perceptive as Hermione able to interact with the student body more naturally would be valuable.

She saw the logic easily and managed to raise her hand two or three times per class, at most. She was proud of her restraint, but decided this would be a perfect time to ask a question.

"Professor McGonagall, we're not going to transfigure that poor dog, are we?"

Harry looked down at his hands so that he wouldn't give away his amusement and Minerva stood quickly to distract herself from laughing. The dog glanced toward their table with a glint in its eye and then yawned loudly.

"Who is familiar with the concept of an animagus?" asked Minerva, beginning the lecture immediately after taking roll.

Almost all the students raised in the magical world raised their hands. Hermione failed to do so, causing Ron and Neville, who were sitting at the table behind them, to gape stupidly at the realization that they knew something that she didn't. Harry reminded himself to go flying soon in his Merlin Hawk form. Minerva had mentioned to him several times that lack of use would cause the back muscles which transformed into his wings to become atrophied.

The dog, which many of the students were eyeing suspiciously, trotted up the center aisle of the classroom wagging its tail and sniffing students. Turning around, it caught sight of Harry and lay its head down on his foot. A few of the students were standing up and leaning forward to watch what was happening and Harry's cheeks started to redden as he heard Lavender and Parvati start to coo over how cute it was, even if it was a bit scruffy.

At that comment, Sirius snorted some dog snot onto Harry's shoes and started to stand on his hind legs while at the same time transforming into his human form. Even with the knowledge that the dog was most likely a wizard or witch, many of the students were startled into a short scream. Hermione joined them, doing her best impression of a naive muggle-born.

Harry grinned at his godfather, who was beaming at the reaction from the class. Unable to help himself, Sirius glanced at Harry and gave him a wink. Inside, Harry groaned, knowing that it would only reinforce the rumors of favoritism, but seeing Sirius happy banished the thought.

The class proceeded fairly normally after Sirius' display. Minerva introduced him to the class as their assistant professor and explained that he would have the same powers as any of the Hogwarts staff. He would only be in each class teaching once a week, but available any time for questions and tutoring.

The lesson for the day was a continuation of transfiguring a matchstick into a needle from the previous class, but with the added element of Sirius strolling to and fro giving advice, explaining wand movements and pronunciation and generally encouraging everyone. By the end of the period, everyone had managed at least a fair imitation of a needle. Harry could see the pride in Sirius' face, which caused his own mood to improve.

And it needed improvement. With only a twenty minute break for gathering books, Harry and Hermione, along with the rest of the Gryffindors headed down to the dungeons for their first Potions lesson.

Albus had warned him that Snape was apoplectic with fury when informed that the two remained Marauders would be on staff during the current school year. Considering his memories and Snape's added irritation, Harry expected nothing less than cruel disparagement and verbose insults regarding every move he made.

As they entered the Potions classroom, Harry stumbled into Ron, who had stopped suddenly just inside the doorway. Glancing toward the front of the room for an explanation, Harry spotted the incensed face of Severus Snape. The man's eyes were fixed on him and slid up to his scar before locking onto Harry's own eyes.

Harry had faced many terrifying things in his life, both while at Hogwarts and as an Auror, but the vision in front of him caused him to gulp down an unwanted bubble of fear. A small part of his mind was amazed at Snape's ability to inspire dread.

"Sit down!" ordered Snape in an even voice that nevertheless managed to convey his rage. The rest of the class scurried into the room and took their seats as quietly as possible, but the professor had eyes only for Harry, tracking him the entire journey from door to table. Hermione and Ron looked worried for their friend, while Neville wore an expression of terror that Harry guessed Snape dreamed of inspiring on all of his students.

When everyone had taken their seats and prepared their cauldrons, Snape stood and stalked to the blackboard.

"There will be no foolish wand waving in this class. If I see your wand, you will have detention for a week. If you interfere with another student's potion, I will put every effort into having you expelled and your wand snapped. I do not expect any of you to understand the complex art that is potion brewing. The most I will hope for is that none of you will get your classmates killed due to your own idiocy."

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Snape spelled a set of instructions on the board and then walked to the back wall of the classroom and flung open a set of cabinets.

"These are the ingredients for today's potion. It is designed to cure boils and ease pain. I do not foresee any of you successfully brewing anything correctly for many months, so I will mark you based on your ability to follow instruction. Begin!"

The last was said so sharply and with such anger that most of the class jumped and hesitated a moment too long. Snape lost his temper and inadvertently caused a loud _bang_ and some green sparks to erupt from his wand, which was gripped tightly in his hand.

The class quickly organized themselves and gathered the necessary ingredients, avoiding their professor's gaze at all costs. Within a few minutes, Harry and Ron were moving on to the second step of their potion when they sensed a malevolent presence behind them.

"Potter," murmured Snape in a silky sweet voice dripping with danger, "you are a disgrace." He was speaking so softly that only Ron and Harry could hear him. His breath caused goose-bumps to form along the back of Harry's neck.

"I can see that you've inherited none of your mother's skill for potions, which shouldn't surprise me. The idea of a Potter with subtly is about as ludicrous as a Black with loyalty. You will not be coddled in this class. Unless you are perfect, which I'm sure you mistakenly think you are, you will fail. If you go and cry to your mutt of a godfather or that half-breed friend of his, I will make it my mission to have you expelled. Do you understand me, Potter?"

Harry was torn between sorrow and fury as he listened to the man he had named his second son after, but nodded to acknowledge the threat.

"Yes, sir," he said.

In a louder voice, Snape spoke again. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter. You must concentrate on your potion at all times. Day dreaming will only cause you disappointment." Then, in a whisper, he spoke only to Harry. "Unfortunately, your family seems to find disappointment wherever it goes." When Harry refused to respond, Snape whispered once again.

"Twenty more points from Gryffindor, Potter. For your cheek. And your choice in guardians."

Snape's cloak billowed as he glided away and Harry glanced at Ron to see the redhead staring at their professor with a look of hatred. Trying to distract him so that they wouldn't lose anymore points, Harry urged Ron to complete the potion, though it was already ruined after missing a step because of Snape's interruption.

Harry had not quite predicted such a hostile Severus Snape. He began to wonder what else had escaped his plans.

* * *

"That should be the last of them," said Tonks. She sighed and fell into her chair in the Non-Magical Interference Administration field agent office. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat down at the desk across from her with a smile and a nod.

"You did well today. Your speed at taking down those charms was even faster than your training time."

"Thanks. Will I be the one putting them back up for winter holidays?"

Kingsley shook his head. "No, we have some recruits that are finishing up the basics. Should be ready for field training in about a month. You may have to supervise, though."

Tonks nodded, pleased that she wouldn't have to cast and take down the various muggle-aversion charms that the Muggle Relations Department had decided to surround platform nine and three quarters at Kings Cross Station with every time Hogwarts students traveled back and forth. As the first newly graduated student to join the department, Tonks would hold a small level of seniority over the recruits that would be arriving.

Kingsley rose. "I'm going to have some tea. You?"

Tonks shook her head and sat a bit straighter in her chair. "Thanks, but I'm going to get started on these evaluation forms. You said you needed them by tomorrow, right?"

"Right," agreed Kingsley. "Don't be too harsh on your self-evaluation, Tonks. As I said, you did well today. We're really just working through these things so that we know what we're doing once the recruits arrive. They're the ones who are going to need them."

"Fair enough," said Tonks who went to work as Kingsley ambled away to get his drink.

After several minutes, Kingsley returned, but before he could sit down a witch who looked disheveled to the point that Kingsley considered ordering her to take the rest of the day off ran up to their desks.

"Agent Shacklebolt, the muggle police have reported a missing person. There's no sign of physical violence, but reports indicate a shadowy mark on the wall the police claim is still warm to the touch."

"Sounds like a dark curse to me," said Tonks. Kingsley made no move to argue with her. The witch turned to her and continued her report, causing Tonks to blush.

"All indicators point to an abduction, ma'am. The resident, a William Arthurs, twenty-seven years old, muggle, has not been seen or heard from in over four days."

"Let's go see what this is about," said Kingsley. Tonks stood, cast a sticking charm on the evaluation forms she had been working on, then donned her cloak and followed her superior to the floo.

After arriving at the designated disapparation zone nearest the crime scene, Kingsley turned to her and assumed his teaching mode.

"Now, Tonks, if there are any police inside the apartment...?"

"Immediate stun, followed by memory modification."

"Good. I doubt there will be anyone there, so hopefully no need to worry about it. But if there are some police, I will assist _you. _Understood?"

"Gotcha," answered Tonks.

"I also want you to practice your spell identification skills. This is yours today, alright? I'm only here to observe and assist as needed."

Tonks nodded her understanding, but felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in her belly as she prepared to disapparate.

A quick glance around the living room of the flat showed no sign of police or anyone else. Tonks and Kingsley quickly searched the rest of the flat, which was small but clean and extremely neat. A small bedroom with white walls and a few prints hanging on the wall was the only room that seemed very lived in at all. It was here that Kingsley could sense the dark magic that had been used, but he stayed quiet and waited for Tonks to make her own conclusions. He watched as her eyes rapidly scanned the room, taking in every detail. The moment of realization was easy to spot as Tonks' eyes widened and her hair shifted from pink to a jet black shade.

"It happened in here," she said.

Kingsley made an affirmative noise and waited for her to continue.

"He was sleeping, or in bed," said Tonks as she began to circumnavigate the room. "There's nothing to indicate forced entry. No magic on the doors. Our detection spells would have showed something." She paused to think for a moment and then looked to Kingsley, unable to finish the thought.

He pointed to a slightly darkened section of the wall, between a window and the bed. It looked like a shadow, but there was nothing there to block the light. Tonks cautiously approached it and cast a detection charm, too fast for Kingsley to stop her.

"Tonks!"

A grunt that would have been appropriate for getting kicked in the stomach escaped his partner's mouth and he managed to grab her before she fell to the ground. A coughing fit followed, resulting in Tonks losing what little lunch she had managed to eat earlier that afternoon.

Several minutes of dry heaving followed and after a conjured glass of water to rinse her mouth, Tonks managed to stand a bit shakily.

"What the hell was that, Shack? I've never heard of something reacting like that to a detection spell."

"Tonks, you should never cast a detection spell on unknown dark magic. I didn't think I would have to tell you that." Kingsley heard the sharpness in his voice and attempted to calm himself. "Now, what can you tell me?"

Attempting to steady herself, Tonks chose to sit down on the floor and think for a moment. Finally, she answered his question.

"That is extremely dark magic that I'm not familiar with, and the thought of staying near it, or this apartment, makes me extremely uneasy. Whatever happened to Mr. Arthurs was apparently unpleasant but I can't tell you anything specific."

With a nod, Kingsley grabbed an arm and hoisted Tonks to her feet. "Good enough. We've done all we can here, we should let the Aurors handle it. Let's get you to St. Mungo's."

"I'm fine, Shack. Let's head back to-"

"You're going to St. Mungo's, that's an order. You can't play around with magic like this, Tonks. It's too dangerous. Let's go, I'll sidealong you."

They disapparated from the muggle flat with a loud pop.

* * *

After what felt like hours, the spinning sensation of international portkey travel dissipated and Bill Weasley found himself standing in the portkey arrival terminal just off the Ministry of Magic Atrium in London. He steadied himself but lurched to the side due to his lost equilibrium, nearly tripping over Rock, who was standing to his left.

"William, are you alright?" asked the goblin in neutral tone.

Bill knew that was as close to concern as the goblin was willing to show and nodded. "Fine, just give me a second."

His companion didn't bother to respond and began to exit the terminal. Bill followed slowly, still unable to walk in a straight line, feeling like he'd drunk a couple of firewhiskey's but not enough to singe his eyebrows.

The two curse-breakers entered the atrium together and Bill did his best not to return the many stares the two of them were receiving. He rationalized that it was not common for a wizard and a goblin to be walking together, especially when both of them were wearing rust colored body armor from a Peruvian Vipertooth dragon. Bill winced in remembrance of their battle against the dragon. He winced again at the thought of what his mother would say when she saw the marks on his face that still had not healed completely.

The healers had told him they shouldn't scar, but it had already been a few months and the two ragged slashes down the left side of his face, from just below his eye to under his ear, were still an angry pink. Rock had told him scars were honorable and that humans put too much thought into their appearances. Bill's response, that goblins were all hideously ugly and didn't base attractiveness on appearance, went unremarked upon by his friend.

Bill led them to the lift and the two of them entered along with a small group of witches and wizards. On the ride down to the minister's office, Bill noticed several of their fellow passengers were quite obviously glancing at the two of them, especially Rock. A goblin at the Ministry was an extremely uncommon event, and Rock did his part by flummoxing them further.

"Hello, wizard," he politely greeted a particularly scared looking young man who was holding a folder full of parchment. The wizard sucked in a startled breath and dropped his folder, scattering forms all over the floor of the lift.

Bill snorted while Rock grinned, causing the others around them to shrink back against the wall.

Eventually they reached level one and exited the lift with two nervous looking witches. They slowly strolled down the hallway and approached the Minister's office. Two hit wizards stood outside the entrance and ordered them to wait. A moment later, a small house elf that Bill recognized as Creaky popped in and waved his hands at them. Bill felt nothing, but noticed Rock stiffen slightly before both the goblin and the elf relaxed. Creaky let out a happy squeak and smiled widely.

"Mr. Wheezy and Mr. Rockyspear, you is expected to meet Ms. Bonesy. Come, come!" the elf exclaimed excitedly and popped back to wherever he had come from. One of the hit wizards opened the door for them and the two travelers entered the office of the Minister of Magic.

Waiting in the reception area was Michelle Alton, who stood from her desk and welcomed both of them with a handshake. In the year since she had started her job and Harry had come back in time, Michelle had transformed from an uncertain muggle-born witch into a confident power in the ministry.

"Bill, Rock, excellent to see you again. What happened to your face?" she asked suddenly, and Bill flushed slightly while Rock's mouth opened in a silent laugh.

"Dragon," he said simply, waving his hands to suggest the dragon skin armor the two of them were wearing. Michelle's eyes widened and Bill was reminded again that he had an extremely unusual and somewhat dangerous occupation. This was a woman who had barely batted an eye at the fact Harry Potter had traveled from the future to help destroy Voldemort. Harry had once explained to him that muggle-borns were more easily able to process seemingly impossible situations since a large part of their minds still had trouble believing magic itself was real.

"Well, the Minister is expecting you. Let me make sure she's not busy."

Michelle walked over the Minister's door and peeked in, spoke a few muffled words and then returned with a smile.

"She says to come on in. Let's go." The three of them entered the office and found Amelia walking over to them. Her face registered shock at the marks on Bill's face, but then took on an expression of curiosity.

"'Here there be dragons,'" said Amelia, half questioningly.

Bill nodded, still somewhat embarrassed.

"But you're alright? No permanent damage?"

"The healers say there should be no scarring," said Bill.

Amelia nodded and motioned for them to sit in a pair of chairs in the corner of the room to the right of the door. She joined them and Michelle exited the office to return to her desk. The three of them made small talk for a bit, as Bill and Rock described their journey to South America and Amelia filled them in on the situation in Britain.

"Minister Bones," interrupted Rock, "I am curious about your reasons for summoning us."

The blunt statement caught Amelia off guard as she realized she had been spending far too much time playing politics at the ministry.

"Of course," she said. "I'd like you and Bill to join Alastor and Nicolas in warding homes and businesses. Especially against the dark mark. I believe the four of you would be able to effectively seal off most places from those wishing our friends and family harm."

"Has there been any indication that Voldemort is making a move?" asked Bill.

Amelia shook her head. "Nothing we're sure about, but Tonks and Shacklebolt found something disturbing in a Muggle apartment in London about two weeks ago. No one at Hogwarts has noticed anything out of the ordinary. Relatively, of course."

"You wish to use goblin magic," said Rock.

"Yes."

"You realize that for goblin wards to function continuously, they must be reinforced by goblins regularly?"

Amelia responded by summoning a thick stack of parchment from her desk. As it floated over, Bill glanced at Rock who answered his look by giving the goblin equivalent of a shrug.

When the documents landed in front of Rock, Amelia began to explain. "This is the first draft of a declaration of goblin equality, written by the Goblin Liaison Office. It specifically lays out the rights and privileges of goblins as equal to those of witches and wizards. That includes optional education for goblin children, wand rights if desired, employment protection in non-goblin enterprises and representation in the Wizengamot."

"What does the Ministry expect from the goblins in return?" asked Rock, wondering what Amelia had promised the bigoted pure-bloods that still had so much power in the ministry. He had helped her outline the declaration several months earlier, before he and Bill had left for South America.

"Interest rates no more than one-half of a percentage higher than recognized inflation rates for emergency ministry loans, approved by the Wizengamot and the High Council."

"What else?"

"Ministry input on the accounts of convicted criminals."

Rock laughed at that, while Bill smiled and shook his head.

Amelia conceded the likelihood of that point being approved by the Goblin High Council. "I know that has no chance of passage, but goblins aren't the only negotiators in the magical world."

"True, true," agreed Rock. "You won't be asking for more than that, I suppose. Getting the rates you want will be difficult enough for the High Council to accept."

His curiosity unable to be contained, Bill asked the question which had initiated the push for goblin rights so quickly. "What about the Lestrange vault?"

At the same moment Amelia was saying, "Yes," Rock scowled and interrupted her.

"I do not see Ragnok or the High Council ever allowing the ministry, or any individual wizard access to a customer's vault."

"What if we trade the low interest loans for one-time access to the vaults?" asked Bill.

"No. No, I do not believe anything will persuade the goblins that violating their agreements, even if the agreement is with a family as vile as the Lestranges, would be acceptable."

A sigh escaped Amelia. "What do you think it would take to get access to that vault?"

If goblins sighed, Rock would have responded with one of his own. "I truly do not know. I apologize that I cannot be of more help, but even if I was willing to assist in forcing our way into the Lestrange vault, I would only bring more scrutiny to the effort. I have not worked inside a Gringotts bank in over five decades."

"Well," said Amelia, "we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Maybe someone will have an idea beyond breaking in. I've seen the memory so many times that I'm convinced the chances of it succeeding again are infinitesimally low. Now, let me tell you about what Alastor and Nicolas have already planned for the warding."

The three of them spent most of the next hour haggling. Bill and Rock did not seem very interested in putting up wards, only in tearing them down. But Amelia had risen to her position as Minister of Magic for reasons other than a time-traveling first year.

* * *

Harry realized that Ron's life had been almost turned upside down in the past year. Infrequent visits back to England during his year of traveling had always included a visit to the Burrow. Although he was getting used to seeing Ginny as a young girl yet to start at Hogwarts, watching his brother in all but blood change at such an astonishing rate was disconcerting.

The strangest element to the situation was that Ron appeared to be maturing at a rate that may have even surpassed the time during their search for Voldemort's horcruxes. He had discussed it with many of the people who were aware of his status as a time-traveler, and as always, Albus was the one to give the most logical and probable answer.

"Mr. Weasley," Albus had stated, "is being treated by you, his best friend, as well as by his father and older brother in a way which keeps the man he will become in mind. It appears to have increased his self-respect. Respect for his family has no doubt also increased thanks to William and Arthur's increase in status, as well as Charlie's new position in Romania."

Harry and Albus had debated into the early morning over glasses of gillywater. Though neither of them were certain, Harry deferred to Albus' judgement and experience as a teacher. He had, after-all, been dealing with adolescents for much longer than Harry had been alive. In any universe.

At the moment, Harry and Ron were sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was struggling a bit with Herbology homework while Harry was pretending to be stymied by some readings for Charms. Being Sunday, both assignments were due the next day, and they had spent most of the weekend exploring the castle. Hermione had finished her homework the day before and was spending time with her dorm-mates upstairs. Harry was happy for her, and that his somewhat misleading suggestions about blending in were allowing Hermione to make the friends she had lacked in his original universe.

"Argh!" moaned Ron as he dropped his quill in frustration. A bit of ink splattered onto the table they were working on, and Harry checked his book for any new blotches.

"Sorry, mate," Ron apologized. "I just can't seem to get this, do you think Hermione can help me through it?"

Harry glanced over at him and was a little startled to see Hermione walk up behind Ron. She smiled at him and nodded, though Harry decided to have a little fun with his friends first.

"I don't know, she might be busy."

"Oh, come on, Harry! The girl might be mental, but she's so smart she makes you and me look like Crabbe and Goyle."

Harry frowned a bit and saw Hermione's face begin to form a hurt expression. Fortunately, Ron continued.

"Besides, she's interesting. I've never had the chance to hang out with any Muggle-borns before. She has the strangest ideas in her head. I'd love for her to meet my dad, it would be hilarious! Let's see if we can get one of those girls to run upstairs and ask Hermione to come help us out. You don't think she'd mind, do you?"

There was no response from Harry to Ron's comment as the redhead was attacked by a bushy haired blur. Harry laughed as Hermione gave Ron a tight squeeze then released him.

"Of course I'll help you two," said Hermione. "There wasn't much for me to contribute up there anyway. Lavender and Parvati keep talking about makeup, but I've never worn makeup, and don't know any of the spells to magic it on. They seem a little useless, actually. The spells, I mean. Not Lavender and Parvati."

Ron and Harry laughed while Hermione blushed at her accidental non-insult and sat down in the chair next to Ron's. As he watched his two friends avoid a potentially negative repeat of his past, Harry absently finished his Charms work and stared into space. The chatter and laughs of his fellow Gryffindors barely penetrated his consciousness. His thoughts and plans toward the future were not interrupted until Ron shook his shoulder.

"Harry, we're going down to the Great Hall for lunch. You coming?" said Ron.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." Harry packed up his books and rolled his parchment up and placed it in his bag. The two boys quickly ran upstairs and dropped off their possessions, then met Hermione by the entrance of Gryffindor tower.

Harry was quiet for most of the walk, but as they approached the doors to the Great Hall, the sound of several hundred students was suddenly blocked out as Harry's forehead erupted into a sharp, punishing pain that was frighteningly familiar.

He grunted quietly enough that Ron didn't even notice, but Hermione looked back and saw the expression on his face. Her eyes widened in concern, then terror as she realized the potential meaning of Harry's hand clasped to his scar.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" she asked, getting more anxious with each passing second.

By now, Ron had stopped and was looking back at the two of them in confusion, fear and worry etched on his face as Harry staggered a bit before steadying himself against the wall. Several seconds passed as the pain in his scar lessened and then dissipated completely. Harry took a deep breath and looked up into the scared eyes of Hermione and Ron, the two people who he had managed to become friends with in two universes.

"I'm fine," he said, giving Hermione a significant look. They had discussed what she should do if Harry had any pain in his scar. "Can one of you take me to the hospital wing? I think I just need a pain relief potion."

"Sure, I'll take you. I think I remember where Percy said it was," said Ron as he took Harry's arm and started leading him off.

"I'll come visit you after lunch, OK?" shouted Hermione to the retreating figures of her friends. Harry raised his hand in acknowledgment and Hermione turned around and did her best not to burst into the Great Hall and sprint to the head table.

She walked through the doors and headed toward the head table at a controlled but brisk pace, hoping that no one would notice. It wasn't unusual for students to speak with their professors during mealtimes, and no one spared her a glance as she approached Minerva.

"Professor McGonagall?"

Minerva had been speaking with Severus and before she could process who was speaking to her, Snape sneered at the first year girl.

"Miss Granger, do you realize that it's considered rude in some cultures to speak to someone who is in the middle of a conversation?"

Hermione blushed furiously but didn't let Snape's uncivil manner distract her. "I'm sorry Professor Snape, but I just need to ask Professor McGonagall a quick question."

"Yes, Miss Granger?" prompted Minerva.

"Harry, Ron and I were having some trouble with our Transfiguration homework, and they said we should just go ask Professor Black," Snape scowled and looked at his plate, "but I was wondering if there was any chance you could give us some advice. Harry especially needs some help."

For a moment, Hermione was worried that the head of Gryffindor had forgotten the agreed upon system to be used among those aware of Harry's time-travel. After a moment, though, Minerva's brow rose and she nodded sharply.

"I'll be happy to. When would you three be available to come to my office?"

"As soon as you can have us, ma'am. We really need as much help as we can get."

"I understand, Miss Granger. Go ahead and have your lunch and we'll make an appointment for tonight. I'll prepare some questions for you after lunch."

Minerva began preparing to leave the Great Hall after dismissing Hermione. Snape glanced at her as he sipped his tea.

"Minerva, you are far too accommodating to your house. Especially these new first years. They don't know enough yet to really understand most of what you're teaching them in the first place."

"Thank you Severus," she replied, shortly. "I enjoy helping my students, however. And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish marking the seventh year's essays before dinner."

Hermione watched as her head of house swiftly walked out of the back entrance of the Great Hall and sighed in relief. Harry had seemed fine after his small attack, but she knew from the memories he had shown her that it was a serious situation.

A few minutes later she had still not eaten much lunch and was considering going to the hospital wing to check on Harry when several owls flew down from outside the Great Hall. One landed on the Gryffindor table quite near her and Dean Thomas read the note attached to the large sack tied to the bird's leg and shouted down to her.

"Granger, this one's for you! From Flourish & Blott's, I think!"

Hermione stood from her almost untouched lunch and grabbed the sack from the owl. Dean fed it slice of roast beef and it flew away with a grateful 'hoot,' happy to have been relieved of it's large load.

For a moment, Hermione forgot about Harry and time-travel and evil dark lords. She was lost in her new collection of books that she'd ordered at the wizarding bookstore in Diagon Alley while she had been shopping with Harry and Remus. She left the Great Hall to go back to the common room, intent on skimming over some of her purchases.

* * *

In the hospital wing, Harry was lying in bed being examined by Madam Pomfrey when Minerva and Sirius entered. They immediately rushed to his side.

"Hey guys, I'm fine. Really," assured Harry, but the looks on their faces showed they would only accept that as long as Madam Pomfrey was within hearing range.

The matron turned to the two professors. "He seems to be perfectly healthy. No sign of magically induced trauma or interference. I'd like to keep him here overnight as the Weasley boy seemed very upset, and with his brothers I'm sure he's seen his share of injuries. However, you're his guardian, Sirius, so it's up to you."

And with that she bustled off to her office and the two professors looked down at Harry in concern and curiosity.

"It was only for a few moments, but I could sense that he was happy about something," said Harry without any prelude.

Minerva's mouth formed into a thin line and Sirius began to pace back and forth for a moment before rounding on Harry.

"What does this mean? Is he getting stronger?" he asked his godson.

"I don't know. I don't think so," answered Harry. He rubbed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "We knew he would have a plan to come back. He always will until we destroy him or he succeeds."

"We must advance our timing of the destruction of the other horcruxes. I will inform Albus of the situation," said Minerva. She strode from the room, robes spiraling around her feet as Sirius sat down on the edge of Harry's bed.

"It's about to start getting bad, Sirius. I can feel it."

"It'll be better this time. There's so many people here to help you. We're going to beat him quick this time. Then we'll move on to everything else," reassured Sirius.

"I hope so. I really do," said Harry.

The two sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys, sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoyed this one. I noticed that the last chapter had a rather low number of reviews. I'll take that as punishment for not updating for so long, but now you need to get back on the ball and start reviewing. It's polite and nutritious, as well.

I imagine that there will be some questions about what's going to happen in the next few chapters. I would have to guess that there will only be 3 or 4 more chapters after this one. It's going to start wrapping up soon, though the last two chapters will be pretty intense and exciting (hopefully).

Go on and review. Every time someone reads a story and doesn't review, a squirrel dies. Don't kill the squirrels.

Oh, and I'm getting married on the 22nd. Scared? No... Maybe a little nervous. Only a little...


	15. It's Natural to Be Afraid

_**Author's Note**: __Hi everyone! I'm really really sorry about how long it's taken to update. I've gotten well over 100 reviews since I last posted a chapter and I hope that those who have reviewed and/or been reading my story haven't forgotten too much. But, for those of you who haven't read the story for a while and don't want to go through the older chapters to remember what was happening, here is a short... _

_**Synopsis of the story so far: **Harry woke up on his 10th birthday after going to sleep as a father of three, including recently born Lily Luna. The story starts before the epilogue but after the end of DH. Harry finds several people from his past that he trusts, starting with Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Amelia Bones and Bill Weasley. Eventually he shares his story and truth about being from the future with a select group of people he Trusts. They locate The locket Horcrux, the Diadem and the Ring but can't get the diary or Hufflepuff's cup. In this story, Nagini isn't a Horcrux until after the Tri-wizard tournament. Harry is once again a Horcrux. He's just started his first year at Hogwarts with Remus as the Defense Prof and Sirius as Assistant Transfiguration Prof. _

_Sirius is having various emotional problems that he attempts to solve by drinking far too much. This is not a major point of the story beyond characterization and the fact that I find most fanfic stories and also canon don't show the emotional damage that losing 2 (3 if you include Peter) close friends and spending 10 years in Azkaban reliving the worst moments of his life. I'm not a psychologist, so if I messed up...sue me. _

_Voldemort is possessing a string of muggles and is staying at Malfoy Manor. Hermione knows that Harry is a time-traveler, but Ron doesn't. If you need a better explanation, just skim through the previous few chapters because this note is already way too long._

_**Disclaimer: **Not mine. I have no money, no car, very little sense and definitely no Harry Potter ownership rights._

* * *

**It's Natural To Be Afraid**

October 31st, 1991, the ten year anniversary of the fall of Voldemort and the death of James and Lily Potter was not traditionally a good day for Harry Potter. As he sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall eating breakfast, he thought back to all the craziness that had occurred on Halloween, sometimes even after leaving Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were sitting across from him and talking about the feast planned for that night. Hermione was asking Ron, at Harry's suggestion, how the wizarding world celebrated Halloween, and he could see Ron enjoyed being able to teach their genius muggle-born friend something new.

Harry sensed a presence behind him and turned to see a somber Minerva McGonagall approaching.

"Mr. Potter, I need to speak with you in private. Please come with me."

Hermione and Ron looked at him with an expression of concern and confusion so identical that it almost made Harry laugh, but he just gave them a small grin and stood up from the table.

"Yes, ma'am," he said to his professor. The two of them walked out of the back hall, attracting little attention as the rest of the school was somewhat used to Harry spending an inordinate amount of time speaking with the two transfiguration professors.

Harry didn't say anything until he realized Minerva was leading him towards the hospital wing.

"What's wrong, Professor?"

"Harry, Sirius was absent from this morning's staff meeting. When I went to check on him, he had already made his way through half a bottle of Odgen's and actually threatened to curse anyone who attempted to take it away from him. I believe he is grieving because of the date."

Harry nodded, not all that surprised. "Alright. Okay, well..."

Minerva said nothing and waited for Harry to make a decision about his emotionally shattered godfather.

"He's in the infirmary?" asked Harry. Minerva nodded. "Okay, let me talk to him. Is he sober?"

"No, he's stunned. I had to incapacitate him. He was becoming violent and belligerent."

"I need Poppy to give him a sobering potion and a calming draught. I need to talk to him alone," said Harry. "But get Remus, too. Maybe he can help."

Minerva nodded in response as the two of them continued up the stairs.

* * *

Albus stared out of his office window, taking in the view of Hogwarts grounds. Fawkes occasionally trilled a short song, chirping intermittently whenever the worry emanating from his familiar grew too strong. The western sky was beginning to glow a hundred shades of red and orange as the lake grew still, interrupted by the giant squid's tentacles breaking the surface and radiating small ripples every few minutes.

His thoughts were focused almost entirely on the Order's and Ministry's efforts to locate the two remaining horcruxes. The diadem had been the simplest. The rediscovery of the Room of Requirement had been a bonus that the Order had taken advantage of for the past year. The training and organizing, as well as the recovery of thousands of volumes thoughts lost to time had been a major boon.

The ring hadn't been so easy, but thankfully the four of them had been able to fight through Voldemort's defenses without any major injuries. The Resurrection Stone had been hidden, its location a secret known only to Harry and Rock. Slytherin's locket, hidden away by Regulus Black, had not been easy to retrieve due to Kreacher's fierce protection, but the positive impact of the knowledge that Regulus had betrayed Voldemort on Sirius was immeasurable. That, in Albus' opinion, along with his relationship with Remus and Harry, was one of the few things keeping the former Azkaban inmate from giving up completely. Sirius' breakdown that morning had not been an easy thing for any of them to see. Even Severus, whose disdain for Sirius was as strong and ever present as always, had refrained from any comment. The resigned but determined look on Harry's face as he entered the infirmary to comfort his godfather had both impressed and saddened Albus. Severus' feelings on the matter were impossible to discern, as usual, but Albus believed he sensed a small lessening of animosity from the perpetually sneering potions professor.

When Harry had asked why Severus was present while Albus and Poppy watched over his godfather, Albus had begun to give an excuse before admitting that he was trying to convince Severus that Sirius was not the same man he remembered from their school years.

"You know," Harry said after Snape had left the infirmary, "I'm starting to understand you more the longer I have to pretend to be a first year."

"What exactly do you mean, my boy?" asked Albus.

"Your manipulations, for lack of a better word, are something you can't seem to help."

Albus had smiled and raised his eyebrows to request further explanation.

"You feel like you know more and understand things better than the rest of us. To be honest, if I were your age and had as many experiences as you, I would feel the same way. Merlin, I do feel the same half the time when I hear people predicting what the future will bring and I know, I _know, _what is going to happen instead."

"Do you feel that you have become more manipulative since you started Hogwarts?"

"I _know_ I've become a manipulative bastard," responded Harry. "Using my knowledge and familiarity with people to convince them to help me or to be friendly with me. Hell, I manipulated Sirius five minutes ago to convince him that my parents don't hate him."

Albus nodded. "Do you believe it would be better to allow Sirius to work through his problems on his own? Without any assistance?"

"No," said Harry. "No, it's just gotten more and more blatant since I got here. The way I treat Ron and Neville. And Hermione. Especially Hermione. The girl is never going to become the person I knew. Her behavior is completely different. And she treats me with the same sort of reverence and respect that she gives you when it's just the two of us alone together."

"Do you believe she is unhappy or disappointed with the way things have gone?"

Harry shook his head. "She's loads happier than she was before. I just can't help but worry she won't be the same person she was in my original universe."

"And she won't," agreed Albus. "She'll become the person she is meant to be in this universe. If that person happens to have had a more positive initial experience at Hogwarts with more friends and better social skills, is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know, is it?" countered Harry.

"I do not know, either, Harry."

Both of them sat silently for several moments before Harry continued.

"And then Ron is almost a completely different person. I hate myself a little bit each time I think it, but I like this Ron so much more. When we were first years he could be a pretty big pillock. Now...now he's more polite, more considerate. It's scary, sometimes."

"Harry," the look Harry gave him stilled Albus for a moment and it took the headmaster a moment to collect himself. "Harry, there is nothing you can do to stop the changes. The three of you, along with all of your friends and the Weasley's and the staff here at Hogwarts, all of us are living the life we were given. Your incredible circumstances have affected all of us and those effects will spread outwards like ripples on a lake until there will be very little you recognize from your original world. But that is the fate of this universe, and it is not helpful to dwell on might-have-beens. This is the way _this_ world is destined to be."

Harry hadn't said anything to that, and after a few minutes he had gone back to check on Sirius and Remus, who were chatting quietly at Sirius' bed.

Albus was shaken from his musings on possible strategies to obtain the diary and Hufflepuff's cup by several sharp chirps from Fawkes just in time to sense Hagrid giving the password to the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. He noted absently that it was now dark outside and a quick check of his pocket watch indicated that the Halloween feast would be starting in just under fifteen minutes.

"Come in, Rubeus," said Albus a moment later, before the half-giant could knock.

Hagrid entered with something in his hand and a puzzled frown on his bearded face. His normally friendly eyes were clouded in confusion and suspicion.

"Headmaster, sir. Somethin' strange happen'd down by my hut." He placed what he was holding on the desk for Albus' examination and the older man immediately rose to his feet in alarm. Lying on the desk was a rooster, it's neck plainly broken. The sudden movement and obvious agitation startled Hagrid, who stared at Albus with wide eyes.

"Did you find all of the roosters like this, Rubeus?" Albus asked, attempting to keep any anxiety out of his voice.

"Yes sir, Professor Dumbledore. All of 'em. They were fine las' time I checked em' this mornin'."

Albus nodded distractedly and waved his wand to banish the dead rooster to the same container that held the husks of the already destroyed horcruxes for later investigation. "Hagrid, thank you for bringing this to my attention. You can go ahead and clean up for the feast. We shall have a staff meeting this evening after dinner to discuss this and I would like you to be there. It is something that concerns all of us."

"Is it serious, sir? S'there anythin' I ca' do ta help?" asked Hagrid.

"Not at the moment. But yes, it is quite serious. Please do not speak to anyone about this until this evening."

"You ca' count on me, Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid.

"I know I can. I will see you at dinner, now if you could excuse me for just a moment."

Hagrid nodded in understanding as he headed for the door. "Course, sir."

After the gamekeeper had left him alone, Albus quickly moved to the fireplace and threw a pinch of floo powder into the low burning fire.

"Ministry of Magic, Minister's office!" he stated clearly, and to his own personal shame, with a bit of panic.

Amelia Bones heard the whooshing sound of a floo call and glanced toward the fireplace in her office to see Albus Dumbledore's head looking up at her in alarm. Worried at the lack of the usual imperturbable expression on the ancient wizard's face, Amelia stood and quickly walked over to the fireplace.

"What is it, Albus?"

"The diary is at Hogwarts," he stated quickly. "Rubeus found all of the roosters with broken necks a short time ago outside his hut."

A momentary expression of shock was all Amelia allowed herself before pushing the panic away. "I understand. I'll let everyone know. Have you spoken to Harry?"

Before Albus could answer, he heard the door of his office behind him slam open and the sound of two young children burst into the room.

"I believe I am about to do so," Albus answered Amelia and turned his head out of the fire to face Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, both of whom wore identical expressions of fear and dread.

"Albus-" began Harry.

"I have already been informed," interrupted Albus. "Rubeus was just here to let me know me that all of the roosters have been killed. Is the basilisk already in the pipes?"

Harry nodded and opened his mouth to respond but he was beaten to it by Hermione.

"Headmaster, we have to get everyone into the great hall!"

"I concur, Miss Granger. I believe everyone is on their way there already, but I will have the staff confirm that all students are present as quickly as they are able."

"I'm going to the Chamber," said Harry, resolutely.

"No, Harry. The Minister is informing everyone who needs to know. Bill and Rock should be here presently. I need your help finding and informing Sirius and Remus."

The tension and desire to confront Tom Riddle's memory and the basilisk was easily visible as Harry's legs nearly vibrated with manic energy, but he nodded in acceptance.

"Excellent!" said Albus. He turned back to the fire and concluded his fire chat before rising up off of his knees. He brushed his beard smooth and Harry and Hermione were both reminded that the wizard in front of them was one of the most powerful beings in magical history as he drew himself up and spoke.

"Allow me to escort you to the great hall, Miss Granger. Harry, please locate Remus and Sirius. I do not believe they have left Sirius' quarters yet. I shall share this information with the rest of the staff after dinner. And please be careful."

The three of them quickly descended the spiral staircase. Harry ran off in toward the staff quarters as Albus and Hermione walked at a brisk pace towards the great hall. As he approached Sirius' quarters, Harry spotted Peeves who was floating down the corridor, cackling madly. When the poltergeist saw him, it stopped and floated down to the point where they were eye to eye with each other.

"Ickle firsty shouldn't be out by himself. Monsters and ghouls and monsters are out and about!"

"Thanks, Peeves. If you go tell the house ghosts to make sure there aren't any students left in the common rooms, I'll get Padfoot and Moony to help you turn Snape's robes pink."

The poltergeist grinned in an almost childlike manner before poking Harry in the chest with a wispy finger. "Snotty Potty is very naughty!" Harry raised his wand in response and Peeves backed away with a malicious grin. "Peeves will do. Peeves will!"

Poltergeist and time-traveling first year sped off in different directions as several floors and corridors away, the basilisk claimed its first victim.

* * *

_**Author's note 2**: __I know this is short, but I don't have work for a few months so I should be able to write and update more. I'm, once again, really sorry about how long it took to update and I'm sure most of you thought this was abandoned. It's not. The next chapter will be longer. Promise. I hate writers like me. I'd ask you to review, but I figure I'm lucky if you even read this so I'll ask for reviews next chapter when I actually deserve them :)_

_Also, I have another story that is a cross-over with Kim Stanley Robinson's 'Mars Trilogy'...so go check that out. Please?_


	16. Here We Go

**Here We Go**

Remus and Sirius were having tea in Sirius' quarters when Harry burst into the room. Remus joggled his cup, spilling a bit of the hot liquid on his hands. While it actually caused Sirius to smile for the first time that day, the look on Harry's face immediately got the two Marauders' attention.

"Harry?" asked Sirius as he quickly stood.

"Someone has the diary and the basilisk is out of the Chamber. I heard it through the walls."

"Shit," said Sirius.

Remus closed his eyes for a moment and wiped his hand off on his robe.

"Come on," said Harry, motioning the two of them to follow.

Harry conjured three mirrors and with wands out, the three wizards cautiously made their way through the castle towards the great hall, peering around corners with their mirrors. They saw no one between Sirius' quarters and the great hall, and Harry informed them that he couldn't hear the anything to indicate that the basilisk was nearby. Still wary, they didn't let their guard down until they could hear the murmur of the hundreds of witches and wizards inside the great hall.

Harry stopped them before they could enter. "Listen, Sirius, I need you to go find the Weasley twins. They have the Marauder's map. We can figure out if anyone is hanging around Myrtle's bathroom and if there are any students still outside the great hall. Okay?"

Sirius with a purpose had a different look from the man who had tried to drink himself into oblivion earlier that morning.

"Right," he said with determination and walked into the great hall.

"Remus, Bill and Rock are on the way. Can you meet them at the gate?"

"Sure. What about Kingsley and Tonks?"

"They should be here soon, too."

"Are we going to raid Malfoy Manor?" asked Remus.

"Don't know yet," answered Harry. "Obviously Malfoy is in contact with Voldemort. I can't think of any other reason why the diary is already here."

"Okay," Remus seemed to withdraw into himself for a moment before regaining control. "Okay, be careful, Harry."

"Will do. Now go!" said Harry. "They'll be here soon."

Remus nodded and hurried out the main entrance. Harry turned and steadied himself, readying for the pandemonium he knew the next few minutes would bring.

As Harry entered the great hall, Sirius had just reached Fred and George.

"Hey guys, I need to talk to you about the Marauder's Map. Do you have it with you?"

The twins shared an unreadable look before responding.

"What's that, Professor Black?" said one. Sirius couldn't be bothered trying to tell them apart at the moment.

"For now you can call me Padfoot, boys. It's extremely important that we know the location of everyone in the castle. Do you have the map on you right now?"

Both redheads had frozen at hearing the name of one of their heros. One of them twitched at the realization that Padfoot was not only the assistant Transfiguration professor that they had been learning from for the past two months but also the man who had spent more than a little time in their own house over the last year.

"You're Padfoot?" asked the twin who had twitched.

"I am," answered Sirius, unable to keep a smug grin off his face. "And if you don't believe me, you can ask Professor Lupin. Or Moony, if you prefer?"

The stunned, open mouthed stares he was receiving almost made Sirius forget about the immediate danger of a sixty foot basilisk rampaging through the school. He forced the smile from his face and repeated his request for the map.

The twin who had twitched began to rifle through his robes before pulling out a slightly discolored parchment and handing it over. Sirius thanked them and hurried to the staff table and sitting next to Minerva, whose lips were tight enough to resemble a lizard more than her cat animagus form.

"Is everyone here?" Sirius asked her.

She nodded, taking her eyes off of Albus, who was informing the other three heads of house of the basilisk threat. "All of the students are accounted for now that Harry is here," she said, nodding in Harry's direction as he took his seat next to Ron and across from Hermione and Neville.

"What about staff?"

"Remus is not present," she started but was interrupted by Sirius.

"He's gone to meet Bill and Rock, and then Kingsley and Tonks at the gate."

Minerva nodded in acknowledgment and continued. "Professor Vector, Filch and Hagrid have not arrived yet. Sybil is in her tower, as usual. The house ghosts have checked in to confirm that there is no one left in any of the common rooms. Poppy says that there are no students in the infirmary." She paused for a moment, doing her best to control the fear. "Why is this happening now? In Harry's past..."

Sirius shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't know, Minerva. Something isn't right. Harry thinks Voldemort went to Malfoy after Quirrel died, so maybe things are starting to change. We knew they would. No one ever said Voldemort was stupid."

She sighed. "I know, but if anyone gets hurt because of this. We knew. We knew and we didn't do anything to stop it."

"We did everything we could," argued Sirius. "Malfoy Manor is too well protected for us to have just gone in there, wands in hand."

"Sirius, if one of the students gets hurt-"

She didn't have a chance to verbalize the rest of her worries as Albus finished his conversation with Severus, Filius and Pomona and stood to address the students.

"It would please me more than anything to welcome you to yet another Halloween feast at Hogwarts," began Albus. "But unfortunately we have a crisis at Hogwarts this evening. I ask that all of you remain calm and do you best to stay silent until I have finished explaining to you what we will be occurring tonight and what we shall require of you all."

Quiet whispering and muttered conversation followed this introduction and Albus allowed it to continue for several moments before he continued.

"Many of you know or have heard the legend of Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. Almost fifty years ago, a monster was set loose within this school, resulting in the death of a student some of you know as 'Moaning Myrtle', the ghost who now inhabits the toilet on the third floor. This monster is in fact one of the few known basilisks in the world."

The great hall erupted in screams and noisy conversations. Harry thought he heard a few people begin to cry. After a few moments, with the noise level continuing to rise, loud bangs erupted from the wands of Sirius, Minerva and Severus simultaneously. Harry couldn't help but smile at the expression on Snape's face as he realized he had had the same idea as the Transfiguration professors.

As silence descended, Albus continued. "Yes, it is quite frightening, but you must remain calm. There is very little danger as long as we remain here together. The Ministry is sending some of its best witches and wizards to assist your extremely capable professors. If any of you have any information related to the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, please do not hesitate to speak with any of the professors, prefects or the head boy or head girl.

"Prefects, please see your head of house immediately following the feast. Ah, I see that Professor Lupin has found two of the Ministry workers that have been assigned to assist us in locating and neutralizing the basilisk."

As one, every head in the great hall spun towards the entrance to see Remus, Tonks and Kingsley. The three of them wore faces carved in stone and nodded towards the staff table.

"Now," continued Albus. "I believe you have all waited long enough for the delicious dinner that has been prepared for us." He raised his arms and the four house tables groaned as enough food to easily feed five times as many people appeared. "Please, enjoy. And do your best not to trouble yourselves, too much. This school is one of the safest locations in all of the British Isles. You will all be sleeping here in the great hall for the night after the feast." Albus' face relaxed momentarily. "Oh, and classes are canceled until further notice."

With that final statement, which brought muted cheers from the now more composed students, Albus and Sirius stepped down from the staff table. They exchanged a few quiet words and then Albus headed for a side door and exited the great hall. Sirius strode directly towards Harry and knelt down next to his godson, giving the appearance that he was only comforting a frightened first year who happened to be his godson.

"Harry," he whispered. "Do you have your cloak?"

"You know I always do."

"Right," he continued in a whisper. "Well, I need you to wait until the feast is over and then come meet us in Albus' office. We're probably going to need to go down into the Chamber tonight, alright?"

Harry nodded and tried to avoid Hermione's knowing gaze and Ron and Neville's questioning looks. Sirius patted him on the back, ruffled his hair and walked towards the entrance, leaving with Remus, Tonks and Kingsley.

Seeing that Hermione was about to explode with unasked questions, he turned to his muggle-born friend. "Later, Hermione," he whispered.

She forcibly calmed herself and nodded. Ron looked between the two of them and a look of hurt appeared on his face.

"What the bloody hell is going on, you two? What'd Professor Black say, Harry?"

"Nothing," lied Harry. "He just said he wanted to talk to me after the feast." He could see that answer placated Ron, but Neville seemed somewhat suspicious and Hermione's eyes bulged out so comically that Harry couldn't stop the laugh from escaping his mouth.

The four of them were quickly distracted by the food and Ron's method of eating it, which while improved from Harry's previous universe, was still a sight to see.

* * *

Bill and Rock stood above the body of the basilisk's victim in silence. Rock, having been a curse breaker for almost fifty years, had seen his share of witches, wizards and goblins lose their lives. Bill was not quite as experienced, but he had seen some terrible things in the few short years he had been working for Gringotts. Neither of them had been prepared for what greeted them just a few feet from one of the castle's many side entrances. Blood was still flooding from three separate punctures, likely helped along by the anti-coagulation agents in basilisk venom. A suit of armor lay scattered in pieces throughout the corridor. Scorch marks marred the ancient walls. What was left of a pink umbrella stood, inexplicably upright, against the wall next to the body. Some sort of organic matter was dripping from the tip.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight," Bill finally said. Rock merely grunted in agreement while scanning their surroundings with his eyes.

"Harry is going to be devastated," he said to himself. Rock didn't bother responding. Bill sent a patronus messenger to Dumbledore, feeling guilty at how glad he was that he wouldn't have to tell Harry, and sighed with resignation as he waited for someone to come help recover the body.

* * *

When Harry entered the headmaster's office and removed his invisibility cloak the looks he received immediately put him on guard. He looked at Sirius first and flinched as his godfather was unable to meet his eye. His stomach tightened up and he shifted his look to Remus, whose own eyes were dangerously shiny. Something inside his stomach seemed to compact itself into an iron snitch that was dragging the rest of him down to the floor. Tonks seemed like she was holding herself back from running to him and attempting to crush him with a hug. Ignoring that, he focused his eyes on Albus who met his look sadly, but with a resolution that only a man with terrible, but ample experience giving bad news could express.

"Who?" asked Harry.

"Rubeus was attacked by the basilisk on his way to the great hall from his hut. I am afraid he did not survive."

The iron snitch in his stomach began to flutter its wings. Apparently it was trying to escape by flying out through his mouth. "He's not petrified?" asked Harry with the last bit of hope he had remaining.

Albus shook his head as Sirius slowly approached Harry and guided him to a chair. "He knew enough about basilisks to not look into its eyes," answered Albus. "I believe he fought back using his umbrella as much as he could before succumbing to three different perforations from the basilisk's fangs. He did, however, succeed in removing one of its eyes."

Harry sat in the chair unmoving as the iron snitch continued its desperate escape attempt. He vaguely sensed that someone was trying to convince him to breath, but they were interrupted as Harry's portion of the Halloween feast splashed onto the floor of the office. He didn't remember beginning to cry, or Kingsley vanishing his vomit. He didn't notice Tonks crying almost as hard as he was, or the few lonely tears dripping into Albus' beard.

Harry was broken from his hysteria by a hard slap to the face from Sirius.

"What?" he snarled at his godfather, who was holding Harry's arms at his sides. He didn't remember taking his wand out, either, but apparently he was angry now.

"Have you got ahold of yourself?" asked Remus, who was standing next to Sirius.

"Yeah, I've got it," responded Harry, wiping tears from his face as Sirius let go of his arms. He conjured himself a handkerchief and then after a moment of thought, sent one to Tonks as well.

"You're still coming with us, right?" confirmed Remus, who looked like he was searching Harry's face for something.

"Yeah," Harry repeated. "When do we do this?"

Albus answered and the five of them gave him their attention. "William and Rock are with Reubus' remains. As soon as we've moved him to the infirmary and the great hall is secured, Minerva and Severus will join us and we shall make our way to the entrance of the Chamber. I believe it would be in all of our best interests if you informed Severus of your unique circumstances before we enter it."

Harry nodded. "Fine. But if he's not going to be able to handle working with me and Sirius, we're going to have to deal with him."

Albus inclined his head in agreement. "I concur. I believe he will be able to put aside his issues, at least for tonight."

"Okay," said Harry. "Tell him to bring some pepper-up potion and any medical potions we might need. It's going to be a rough night."

A brief silence was broken by Sirius.

"We're going to get this bastard, Harry," he said with such ferocity that Harry's lips thinned and quirked upward in a predatory manner matching his godfather's tone. "We'll destroy the diary tonight, and then we're going to go get that cup and end this."

The instant nods of agreement from everyone in the room caused the iron snitch in his stomach to relax into something closer to wood. "Damn right, Sirius. Let's end this. No one else deserves to die because of that bastard. I'm ready."

* * *

_Author's Note: __Wow! Two updates in two days! I definitely deserve some reviews, huh? Sorry about Hagrid, but like I've always said...things are going to be very different because of the changes that have been made. The events in the Chamber are obviously going to be different since there will be more than just Harry fighting the basilisk. _

_Please review. And please go check out my other story, 'Magical Mars'. I'll be updating that one relatively soon, as well._


	17. Marches and Maneuvers

_**Author's Note:** __Sorry about Hagrid, everyone! It's just going to get worse, so be warned. Thank you all for the kind reviews. I've only gotten a few (barely) negative reviews, which is nice but surprising. And Harry Potter isn't mine. _

* * *

**Marches and Maneuvers **

As Minerva was guiding Severus towards the headmaster's office...

And as Bill and Rock watched Hagrid's body being taken to the infirmary...

And as Kingsley and Tonks studied the Marauder's Map...

And as Mad Eye Moody and Nicholas Flamel apparated to Hogwarts' front gate...

And as Albus Dumbledore spoke to Fawkes about what the next few hours would bring...

And as Remus and Sirius watched a silent Harry in concern...

Amelia Bones and Dirk Cresswell were sitting down in Gringotts most lavish conference room, awaiting Ragnok, the Chief of the Goblin Nation and director of Gringotts. The chairs looked extremely uncomfortable, but as the witch and wizard sat down, the chairs molded themselves to fit them individually. Dirk looked nervous as he started and stopped the tapping of his foot every few seconds. The director of the Goblin Liaison Office had, with quickly rising impatience, told Amelia several times that their chances of getting the goblins to agree to any of the Ministry's requests was as likely as a dragon getting along with a pygmy puff.

Amelia began to go over what she had planned to say one more time in her head, but was startled out of her thoughts as the door to the conference room opened and four goblins scurried inside. They were followed by a goblin who, while not noticeably bigger than the others, radiated a self-assuredness she had only seen matched by Albus Dumbledore...and perhaps one other, much younger, wizard.

Both Amelia and Dirk Cresswell stood in greeting while the imposing goblin leader took a seat directly across the table from Amelia. Both humans spoke the traditional goblin greeting in Gobbledegook, gaining a short nod of acknowledgment from Ragnok.

"You requested this emergency meeting, Minister. Please explain what you ask of the Goblin Nation," said Ragnok.

"Chief Ragnok," began Amelia. "The Ministry of Magic respectfully requests a negotiation regarding one-time access to the vault belonging to the Lestrange family. In exchange, we are willing to listen to and consider any and all offers from you and the Goblin Nation."

Every goblin in the room, save Ragnok, hissed in anger at the idea of Gringotts violating the trust of a client, even one as despicable as the Lestranges. Ragnok gazed at her for almost a minute with a neutral expression as the rest of the room waited silently for his response.

"Leave us," said Ragnok. The other goblins grinned fiercely before their Chief turned to them. It was clear he meant to speak to the Minister alone. The stunned goblins shuffled out of the conference room and Ragnok fixed his gaze on Dirk Cresswell.

"Right," muttered Cresswell in disappointment, knowing he was about to miss one of the most historic moments in Wizarding-Goblin relations. The thin, balding man stood walked out of the conference room quickly, leaving the two most politically powerful beings in Britain alone together.

"Chief Ragnok, I appreciate you taking the time to hear me out."

"How could I not? The Ministry of Magic under your leadership has shown more respect to goblins than any other administration in our shared history. Your Wizengamot still thinks of us as little more than bankers at best, but I sense that you and your...advisors," Ragnok drawled the words with a knowing look, "desire a more equitable arrangement. It would only be polite to hear you out."

Amelia did her best to keep her face as expressionless as the goblin. "What would it take for you to allow us access to the Lestrange vault?"

Ragnok tilted his head. "I would like to know exactly why you are requesting this access."

"Can I count on your absolute discretion?" asked Amelia.

"Minister Bones, it amuses me that you ask for such a commitment from me while urging us to break the exact same type of agreement with one of our clients."

She nodded in agreement. "Indeed. I suppose it won't matter if anyone finds out. Either you will allow us this one-time access or Gringotts will most likely be destroyed by Voldemort."

Ragnok stiffened. "Are you threatening us, Minister?"

"Not at all, Chief Ragnok," responded Amelia. "Do the goblins believe that the dark wizard known as 'Lord Voldemort' ceased to exist on October 31st, 1981?"

"An interesting choice of words. Do you believe he is still alive?"

Amelia shook her head. "Not quite. When he attacked Harry Potter that night, the killing curse was reflected back to him, obliterating his body. His soul was tethered to this world through several dark artifacts he had created prior to his body's destruction. Are you familiar with this type of magic?"

"I have heard that some powerful wizards possess the knowledge to create such abominations, but until now it had not been confirmed. Few goblins have the desire for immortality."

"Four artifacts, originally belonging to three of the Hogwarts founders, were located and stolen by Tom Riddle, later known as Lord Voldemort. They were then turned into what we call 'horcruxes' through the intentional murders of various people close to Voldemort and subsequent dark rituals. One of them, a goblet belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, was entrusted to Bellatrix Lestrange. She placed it in her family's vault prior to being incarcerated in Azkaban. A small group of witches and wizards, as well as a goblin, have spent the better part of the past two years locating and destroying these horcruxes."

"That would be Rockspear, if I'm not mistaken?" said Ragnok.

Amelia felt she did an admirable job of not letting the surprise show on her face. "Yes, he and William Weasley have been assisting us. I want to assure you that we never asked either of them to violate any agreements they have with Gringotts."

The expression on Ragnok's face made Amelia want to gulp. "Of that I have no doubt. Both of them would have died extremely slow and painful deaths had they violated their Gringotts oaths."

Amelia continued, trying to ignore the thought of her two friends being eviscerated by goblin magic. "We have located and destroyed all but two of the horcruxes. One of them, a diary created by Tom Riddle while still a student at Hogwarts, will hopefully be destroyed tonight. All we need now is access to the Lestrange vault so that we can get the goblet and destroy it."

"I understand," said Ragnok. "I only question your certainty that Voldemort, should he regain his lost power, would attack us. I am especially skeptical that he would do so knowing Gringotts refused to hand over his last remaining horcrux."

Amelia smirked inside as she imagined the look on Rock's face as she outmaneuvered the head of Gringotts. "Chief Ragnok, if Voldemort discovers that the goblins know the location of his final horcrux, that alone would give him cause to make every effort to destroy you. The fact that you considered allowing us access to the vault, even if it was only to satisfy your curiosity, assures it."

The goblin's expression didn't change, but she could see him hesitate almost imperceptibly before he spoke. "Well played, Minister. I don't believe I have met a human as ruthless as you when it comes to the possible extinction of an entire species."

"Are you familiar with an American wizard named Benjamin Franklin?"

Ragnok looked bewildered at the sudden non-sequitur. "What?"

"He was quite famous in both the muggle and magical worlds. He was one of the leaders in the American's fight for independence and once said to the group of muggles leading the fight, 'We must all hang together, else we shall all hang separately.' Whether the goblin's believe it to be true or not, we are all grouped together in Voldemort's eyes. He will attempt to destroy you as surely as he will us and anyone else not considered pure in his version of reality."

The conference room was silent for several minutes as Ragnok considered the words of the Minister. Finally he spoke. "I could have you and Mr. Cresswell killed and no one would ever know this meeting occurred."

Amelia nodded in acceptance of that fact. "I was aware of that before I came here, Chief Ragnok. However, others much more powerful and influential than I have the same information and they also know I am here tonight."

"I assume you're speaking of Albus Dumbledore?"

"He is one of several."

Once again, Ragnok was silent as he considered his options.

"I need to speak with the High Council. Return in one week and we will give you our decision." The Chief goblin rose and nodded to Amelia with more respect that she expected before exiting the conference room.

Amelia sat in her chair, which had returned to its original, uncomfortable form, and sighed. "That went better than I'd hoped," she said to herself before showing herself out, hoping that things were going well at Hogwarts and that the nearly forty year nightmare of the threat of Voldemort was nearing its end.

* * *

"Minerva, what in Merlin's name is going on?" asked Severus as they approached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office.

"We know where the Chamber of Secrets is and Albus believes you will be able to assist us in destroying the basilisk," she said.

Severus' eyes widened momentarily, though that was the only change in his expression. "Are you joking? A basilisk that old must be over twenty meters long. The only recorded successful capture of a full grown basilisk required over twenty wizards, and half of them died just from its stare alone!"

"One of its eye's has already been removed."

"What? How?" asked a now thoroughly shocked Severus Snape.

Minerva's voice quavered slightly as she answered. "Hagrid encountered the basilisk on his way to the feast. He...he was bitten three times, but managed to destroy one of its eyes before succumbing to the venom."

Severus had never hidden his dislike of the half-giant gamekeeper, but he hadn't had any doubts about the man's skills with magical animals. "That is unfortunate," was his only response as Minerva gave the password and the two of them stepped onto the ascending staircase.

The lack of a greeting before entering the headmaster's office unnerved Severus, who was quite used to Albus knowing who had made their way past the gargoyle guardian. When they entered and he saw who else was in the office, his face closed down and formed the customary sneer.

The office was in a state of hyper-activity but Remus and Sirius managed to gave him a nod of acknowledgment, which was infuriating in its civility. Albus was speaking to an ancient looking wizard who Severus didn't recognize, while Alastor Moody momentarily focused both natural and magical eyes on him for a moment before continuing to fuss with a wooden crate about one meter tall. A barn-like smell permeated the office, and Severus surmised it originated from the crate. Nymphadora Tonks, who he remembered as a walking disaster in the potions laboratory was holding an unrolled piece of parchment and talking in a low voice with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill Weasley and, to Severus' continuing shock, a goblin wearing dragon hide armor.

However, the one person in the office who surprised him the most was also the only student in all of his teaching career to cause him to regularly loose his self-control. Harry Potter stood silently next to Fawkes, who was perched by the window. Severus couldn't hear the phoenix over the voices of the others, but saw the immortal bird opening its beak every few seconds near Potter's ear as the two of them stared out into the dark night that had enveloped Hogwarts' grounds.

He hadn't noticed Albus finish his conversation with the other ancient looking wizard and approach him.

"Severus, thank you for coming so quickly."

"What's Potter doing here?" the potions professor nearly spat.

"My boy, I need to explain some things. They will be difficult for you to hear, but I beg of you to accept what I say as the truth. We may have very little time before-"

"Headmaster!" shouted Tonks who was clutching the parchment. She crossed the office so quickly that Severus was amazed nothing had been destroyed in the process. Arranging the parchment on the headmaster's desk so that those who began to crowd around could see it, he realized that it was a map of Hogwarts that tracked the locations and movements of everyone in the castle.

Tonks finger quickly pointed out a single dot that was rapidly moving away from the sea of black dots and names that covered where the great hall would be. Underneath the dot was the name 'Tom Riddle'. Severus blanched with the realization of who had opened the Chamber of Secrets.

"The Dark Lord is here?" he asked in a horrified whisper.

"Aye, Snape," responded Moody with a grotesque smirk. "Not thinking about running off to rejoin him, are we?"

"Alastor," warned Albus at the same moment Harry turned from the window and spoke. "This isn't the time, Mad Eye."

Severus was prepared to berate his most hated student for speaking out of turn before Moody nodded and apologized. "You're right, Potter. My mistake. Go on and explain to Snape so we can get on with it."

The look on Severus' face was one that more than one of those present resolved to view again in a pensieve. Jaw hanging wide open, it took him a moment to collect himself before his eyes narrowed and he glared at Harry. He then turned to Albus. "Explain," he demanded.

"We don't have time to go into specifics, so I will be blunt. Harry is a time-traveler. We do not know how or why, but the Harry Potter you have come to know is actually thirty-one years old and has the experience of defeating a resurrected Voldemort in his original time. He retains his knowledge, skills and power and he is in charge this evening. Please obey him as you would me," at the look on his younger friend's face, Albus qualified his request with; "At least for tonight."

Severus turned to stare at Harry, who looked directly into his eyes, inviting a legilimency probe. The others in the room tried not to watch as the perpetual antagonists waged a mental battle before Severus gasped and stumbled backwards. "Merlin," he gasped.

"Sorry about that, Snape," said Harry, not sounding terribly sincere. "That last memory you tried to see isn't something I'm ready to share with you, yet."

Severus only nodded and rubbed his forehead. Albus gently grasped his arm and sat him down in the headmaster's own chair.

Suddenly, Tonks gasped loudly and choked back a sob. Bill, who had been watching Tom Riddle's dot groaned and turned to the goblin that Severus still didn't know the name of.

"Guys, we need to go now. It's Neville Longbottom. The diary possessed Neville."

Albus controlled himself for the moment. "We have no more time, Severus. We must go now. This is Nicholas Flamel," Severus gaped for a moment before nodding to the famous alchemist with as much respect as he could manage. Albus continued. "He will be your partner for this evening. Please follow his directions unless Harry or I contradict them. Rockspear," he indicated the goblin, who was producing several blades from an obviously magical bag and handing them out to everyone, "is immune to the stare of the basilisk, so he will be our eyes. So to speak."

Severus nodded, already knowing of the goblin immunity to various deadly magical creatures.

"He's approaching the entrance," Tonks informed them shrilly.

"Alright, let's go," said Harry, with such authority that Severus hadn't even considered disobeying as he stood and brandished his wand.

Eight wizards, two witches and a goblin marched out of the headmaster's office, intent on ending the second war with Voldemort before it could begin.

* * *

_**Author's Note 2**: __Heh. I'm sure you're all wondering how and why Neville got the diary, eh? We all know Tommy Boy loves exposition, so all will be explained in the next chapter. I would like to see your guesses, especially if they are in review form. Also, if you see any mistakes, let me know. I haven't had a beta in a long, long time._


	18. Come in Closer

_**Author's Note: **__Big fight. Enjoy._

**Warning! Violence and Character Death.**

**

* * *

**

**Come in Closer**

"He's disappeared from the map," said Tonks as she walked next to Moody, who was levitating the large crate from the headmaster's office in front of him. Severus and Nicholas were in front of her with Sirius and Harry behind, speaking in hushed voices that she couldn't make out.

"We're just about there," said Remus, unnecessarily from the front of the line where he was walking with Bill and Rock. The two curse breakers quickly cast several detection spells at the entrance to Myrtle's bathroom before nodding simultaneously. The eleven of them crowded into the bathroom, to the initial delight of Moaning Myrtle, who popped out of one of the stalls.

"Oh, have you all come to see me? I've been dreadfully lonely this year. The only one who comes to visit is that rude little boy. He won't even talk to me," she sniffed.

Severus saw Albus was about to try and politely explain to the ghost why they couldn't stay to chat, so he took matters into his own hands and banished Myrtle to the empty Hufflepuff common room until the end of the night. When he saw everyone staring, as well as Sirius and Harry grinning at him, he scowled.

"We do not have the time, correct?"

"Yes sir," said Harry. "You're absolutely right."

Sirius did a poor job of muffling his snickers as Harry located the sink with the snake shaped faucet and hissed at it to open. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets appeared as the sink sank into the floor.

"Fascinating," muttered Nicholas.

Bill checked for curses, though they weren't expecting anything that hadn't existed in Harry's original universe. When he confirmed the lack of any dangerous magic he nodded at the rest of the group.

"I will go first," stated Albus, who threw his beard over his shoulder and jumped. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a quiet, "Whee!" from Albus. He shook his head, and without warning jumped into the entrance after the old headmaster.

"Harry!" shouted Sirius in surprise before he also jumped. Rock followed and in quick succession, each remaining witch and wizard slid down into the Chamber of Secrets. Moody was last. He pushed the crate into the entrance and with a quick glance around with his magical eye and a frown, jumped in himself.

At the bottom of the tunnel, Sirius jumped out of the way of the crate as it flew out of the entrance. Severus, who had been standing next to him, much to the potions master's displeasure, caught the large box in midair and sneered at Sirius.

"It's weightless, Black. It won't hurt you."

Sirius glared back but didn't respond.

As Moody emerged, the group immediately cast silencing charms on themselves and carefully made their way to the final obstacle to the Chamber of Secrets and the awaiting memory of Tom Riddle and the basilisk. They passed by the extremely large skin the basilisk had shed at some point in the past. Tonks stumbled slightly, unable to take her eyes off it. Kingsley gulped as he remembered watching Harry's first encounter with the basilisk in the pensieve and turned to look at the boy who was leading them forward. He was walking confidently towards the doors that would lead them to one of the most dangerous creatures on Earth.

Harry once again hissed in parseltongue for the doors to open. They entered the Chamber and spread out according to plan, searching for Neville or any sign of Riddle, the diary or the basilisk.

"Where is he?" asked Moody, his magical eye spinning at a blinding speed.

No one answered him and the retired auror disillusioned the crate he had been in possession of since before apparating to Hogwarts with a slight huff. The chamber wasn't as large as Harry remembered it. The others, familiar with its appearance from pensieve memories, gazed worriedly at the opening they knew the basilisk would emerge from and waited.

"Riddle!" shouted Harry.

"Merlin, Potter. Are you _trying_ to get us killed?" asked Snape, who was clutching his wand so tightly his hand was shaking. He subsided at a look from Nicholas.

From out of the shadows of the basilisk's tunnel appeared Neville Longbottom. Albus was the first to speak.

"Mister Longbottom?" he queried hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, Dumbledore. Though it was quite easy to give your former student, the other child of The Prophesy, my diary." The voice of Neville Longbottom answered, but it was obvious from the words and the tone that Tom Riddle was possessing the first year Gryffindor. Everyone pointed their wands at Riddle, who hopped down from the lip of the tunnel so that he was standing directly across from Albus and Harry. The rest of the group were scattered around in a semi-circle, surrounding the possessed first year.

Riddle walked carefully towards Harry. As he entered the light created by several lumos spells, Harry could see the slight red glow in Neville's eyes and knew the chances of rescuing his friend were poor. Something about the diary was very different from the first time around.

"Harry Potter," said Riddle in a curious tone. Harry's scar throbbed in pain as he clamped down his occlumency shields. "You are quite young to be traipsing around in the bowels of Hogwarts, even accompanied by the _great _Albus Dumbledore."

Harry said nothing. He could see Tonks and Kingsley slowly circling around Riddle. Albus obviously noticed it as well and attempted to distract Riddle.

"Tom, how did you manage to take over the body of one of my students?"

Riddle's gaze didn't leave Harry. "Dumbledore, don't be a fool. I know perfectly well you were aware of my diary. All that was needed was a slight compulsion charm keyed to young Longbottom and I was able to, with some assistance from Lucius, post the diary to the boy. Simple, really."

Without warning, Riddle pulled out Neville's wand and, with a quick flick of his wrist Kingsley and Tonks were rendered motionless. He still hadn't looked away from Harry's face.

"You have a very interesting group here Harry Potter. A metamorph, a famous alchemist, a goblin," for the first time since he had jumped down from the basilisk's tunnel, Riddle's eyes shifted and he glanced at Severus briefly. "A Death Eater. I wonder, how did you manage to convince all of these people to follow an eleven year old boy into my ancestor's secret Chamber?"

"How did you manage to possess Neville so quickly?" countered Harry, attempting to stall.

"Ah!" Riddle's eyes flashed and he seemed to lean towards Harry. "An excellent question, Harry. After I failed to obtain the Philosopher's Stone last year, I felt an urgency to secure a body that had been missing during my years of exile. Lucius was kind enough to take me in and after I gained enough strength I managed to instill my essence into this diary." Riddle held up the diary they had been searching for with a smirk.

Everyone but Snape and the petrified Kingsley and Tonks recoiled in horror to varying degrees with the realization that Voldemort had been able to recombine two splintered pieces of his soul successfully.

"I see from the expressions on your faces you understand what I have done." Neville's face twisted into an unnatural sneer and Harry's stomach tightened in realization that his friend was probably lost to them.

"Tom," said Albus. "You can not win. We have destroyed the rest of your horcruxes."

Minerva's eyes widened in shock at the bold lie. Riddle noticed and spoke. "By the look on your deputy's face, I believe you may not be telling me the whole truth, Dumbledore. It wouldn't be the first time, would it?" He turned his red eyes to Severus. The potions master didn't change his expression, but the little bit of color in his face drained away, leaving him even more pale than usual. "Severus, it's time for you to choose your side."

"I chose my side years ago, my Lord," said Severus out of habit. He made no move toward his former master. Riddle's lips curled into a look of rage.

"So be it. You will die with the rest of these mudbloods and blood traitors. I am Lord Voldemort!" Neville's childish voice seemed to disappear and Tom Riddle's voice broke through and echoed along the walls of the Chamber of Secrets. He began to hiss, and even though no one but Harry could understand it, they all knew he was calling the basilisk to him.

"Now!" shouted Harry and the rest of them flew into action.

Albus and Minerva quickly transfigured several stones and rat skeletons into metal sheets which Remus and Sirius banished towards the entrance of the basilisk's tunnel, attempting to block it long enough to defeat or delay Riddle. Moody surrounded himself and the crate with a crackling blue shield which would block anything short of the unforgivables as long as he was maintaining it and opened the crate, revealing three sleeping roosters. Bill attempted to summon the diary, knowing his chances of success were low. Riddle didn't even bat an eye as he vanished the diary with a snarl.

"The diary is nothing more than an empty book, now. This body has completely absorbed me. And such wonderful, powerful magic the boy had. It made the transition so much easier," hissed Riddle, who sent several blasting curses towards the transfigured slabs of metal, creating a hole big enough for a person, but not a basilisk, to get through. Nicholas Flamel, who was chanting an extremely long incantation with his eyes closed, caught his attention. Riddle narrowed his eyes and after casting a shield to block several curses sent at him by Albus and Minerva, quickly hissed out, "Avada Kadavera!"

Harry, who had covered himself in his invisibility cloak and been doing his best to protect the others from Riddle's attacks, summoned a large rock into the path of the curse which was immediately transfigured into steel shield by Minerva. The curse struck the shield with a ringing 'gong' sound so loud that it made everyone, including Riddle, wince. Harry noted the sounds of a cave in from the entrance chamber in the back of his mind as dust and other small particles drifted down from the cavernous ceiling. Harry removed the cloak, now covered in dust and thus visible, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Minerva saw Albus was concentrating on countering the petrification spell on Tonks and Kingsley and observed that Riddle was preparing to cast another killing curse at Nicholas. She glanced around herself quickly and levitated several dozen pieces of debris, transfiguring them into spikes, which she banished at Riddle. The small form of Neville Longbottom spun quickly towards her and pulled up a shield that reversed the transfiguration and pushed them back at the transfiguration professor at twice the speed she had banished them. Harry watched with half his attention as he sent spell after spell at Riddle, who batted each one back with ease, sometimes sending an accompanying curse.

Minerva cast the strongest shield she could, but some of the debris pierced it and struck her torso and arms while the rest had enough energy to push her back several feet until she fell to her back. The shield collapsed and the rest of the debris flew over her head and into the wall behind her, making sharp cracking noises. She slowly rose, obviously in pain, but still breathing.

Albus and Remus, frantically working to release Tonks and Kingsley from the unknown petrification spell cast at them, looked up just as Riddle noticed what they were doing and sent a barrage of magic at both of them. Albus quickly dove out of the way, but Remus was struck by several of the spells and screamed in agony as one of his legs was severed and his robes burst into flame, immediately melting onto his skin.

Sirius and Bill, who had watched in horror as their friend burned alive, quickly doused him in water from their wands. Bill encased him in a short term stasis spell so that he wouldn't bleed to death or die from shock and turned back to Riddle, who had once again focused on breaking down the barrier that was preventing the basilisk from joining the fight. He cast several spells, but they were blocked without noticeable effort by Riddle. A curse breaker focused more on defensive magic, and in a fit of desperation as he watched the possessed body of Neville Longbottom dodge, deflect and block spells from Minerva, Severus and a now enraged Sirius, Bill sent a bat bogey hex at Riddle. It was deflected.

Nicholas, who was finishing up his complicated spell, spoke the last few words of the incantation and, with a surprisingly quick movement, brought his wand arm down and pointed it directly at Riddle. Harry ended his defense of the ancient alchemist and waited to see what the spell would do. A wave of bright orange magic moved forward, radiating heat so strongly that the others could feel their hair singeing. Riddle glared at the ancient wizard and crouched as low as he could, muttering something none of them could hear.

A black bubble expanded in an instant, encasing Riddle. When Nicholas' spell passed over it, the others gaped in shock at the undamaged shield that disappeared as quickly as it had formed, revealing a smirking Riddle.

"That was interesting, Flamel. I wish you would join me. I don't feel that many could teach me new magic, but your experience is invaluable."

Nicholas refused to respond verbally and began sending spell after spell at Riddle, who had sent another set of blasting curses at the barrier to the basilisk's tunnel while the others paused in their attack to see the result of Nicholas' spell, opening it almost to the point that Harry thought the huge snake could slither through.

Albus felt he had almost broken the unknown spell that had been placed on Tonks and Kingsley when Riddle apparently noticed the same thing and turned his attention to the headmaster.

"Dumbledore! Afraid you don't have enough magic to fight me, yourself?"

Albus ignored him, intent on his task. He knew that if they were still petrified when the basilisk appeared, they would surely die from its deadly gaze if they were unable to close their eyes. Riddle scoffed loudly and waved his wand several times until the tip began to glow. Harryand Nicholas both cast _confringo_ at the same moment, while Severus practically screamed, "Sectumsempra!" Riddle dodged Severus' curse, glaring at his former follower, and wandlessly summoned some of the larger pieces of debris to absorb the twin blasting curses.

With one final turn of Riddles arm, a burst of tightly controlled fiendfyre erupted towards Tonks and Kingsley. Harry tore into action, reaching them seconds before the fiendfyre, ducking spells sent by Bill and Albus as they tried to distract Riddle. He knew he would only be able to save one, and with Tonks being slightly closer, Harry grabbed her and pulled the petrified witch out of harms way as he dove to the side. He looked away as Kingsley was consumed by the fiendfyre, which then moved towards the transfigured barrier at the tunnel's entrance and liquified it.

Riddle hissed again, calling for the basilisk. This time, Harry heard the response.

"_Massster," _it hissed at Riddle as if awaiting orders.

"_Kill them," _commanded Riddle in parseltongue, still dodging and blocking curses from every direction. "_Kill them all!"_

"Moody!" shouted Harry, trying not to retch at the smell of burning flesh. "It's coming!"

Moody nodded once and placed all three roosters under the imperious curse. His shield collapsed with the old auror unable to maintain it along with the three imperious curses. All three roosters began to crow loudly, over and over.

Harry could hear the basilisk hissing unintelligibly as it writhed in pain just inside the entrance of the tunnel. Suddenly a feeling somewhat similar to a ghost floating through him caused Harry to shiver and he couldn't hear anything at all. He felt the hissing voice of Voldemort in his mind as his scar burned against his occlumency shields.

"_You brought roosters. Amazing foresight. Most wizards lack commonsense as much as muggles lack magic."_

Harry wondered to himself why the basilisk wasn't dead as he watched with dread as its snout appeared in the tunnel entrance.

"_I can see how you might be confused," _whispered Voldemort in his mind. "_Any normal basilisk, if you can call a basilisk normal, would immediately succumb to three roosters crowing in unison. But this is the basilisk of Salazar Slytherin and it is over one thousand years old. It would take more than a momentary exposure to the crow of a rooster to kill it. A blanketed silencing charm is simple to cast and almost impossible to cancel without the consent of the caster."_

Harry tried to break the mental connection with Voldemort. His efforts were met with cold laughter devoid of humor.

"_Join me, Harry. I've seen your power and I know you are from the future. Your occlumency is strong, but no one is a match for Lord Voldemort. We can use your knowledge and our shared power to mold the world to our vision."_

Harry didn't dignify the expected offer with a response other than clamping down on his own mind as hard as he could and focusing as strongly as he could on the memories of his children being born in his original universe. The sense of joy it brought him, as well as the horrible ache of their absence, helped push Voldemort from his mind in a similar manner to the events of his fifth year in the Ministry atrium.

While the mental battle between Riddle and Harry was being waged, the others in the Chamber were doing their best to avoid the deadly one-eyed gaze of the basilisk, sending the occasional ineffective spell at it. Moody had abandoned the roosters, which stopped their silent crowing as the imperious curse was lifted from them, and weaved his way towards Riddle with his wand raised.

Unable to speak due to the silencing charm, Albus hysterically motioned for the others not to cast any spells at Riddle or Harry, fearful of what would happen to Harry if either was struck by a curse while mentally connected. Rock was sprinting toward the basilisk, a large broadsword being held in both his hands. No one saw Harry clench his eyes and fists but they all felt the swell of magic that swept through the room and threw everyone, including Riddle and Harry, to the ground.

Sound rushed back, but before the roosters could be forced to crow once more, Riddle sent a powerful _diffindo _that slashed all three into nothing more than piles of bloody flesh and feathers and renewed his defense.

The basilisk lunged out of the tunnel. Rock, who was waiting under the lip of the entrance, struck hurriedly, impaling the snake with the sword in its relatively unprotected underside at the same moment that Albus called for Fawkes, who appeared directly above the basilisk's head in a flash of pure white fire. The phoenix screeched, swooping towards the basilisk's remaining eye. The huge serpent shook and weaved from side to side, attempting to avoid the enraged phoenix, and unintentionally slammed its tail into the goblin that had stabbed it, sending Rock flying almost twenty feet until he crashed into the ground in a heap.

Harry and Sirius, who had come to his godson's aid as soon as Riddle had been expelled from his mind, had managed to break Tonks from the petrification spell. The three faced Riddle while Bill, Albus, Minerva, Severus and Nicholas stood directly across from them. The eight of them, and Riddle, paused for several seconds to watch the battle between Fawkes and the basilisk. A now unpetrified Tonks was the first to tear her eyes away as the phoenix finally latched onto the snake's face and began clawing at its eye. She glanced at Riddle and smiled grimly at his expression as she began casting various hexes and curses. Severus followed her lead and began sending verbal and non-verbal spells that none of them had ever heard before. Nothing landed on target and Severus screamed in frustrated rage.

"No!" shouted Riddle in fury as the basilisk swung its huge head aimlessly. He began shooting spells at the swan-like bird that had crippled it, but it was too late. The basilisk was now completely blind. Albus and Sirius took aim at Riddle and conjured magical ropes and chains respectively, but Riddle merely batted them away in a rage. Moody sent killing curses, one after the other, but they were dodged or deflected by transfigured debris. Fawkes dodged the spells cast by Riddle and flashed over to Remus, where Minerva and Bill had begun to attempt to stabilize the injured defense professor. Confident their friend would be helped as much as possible, Albus, Harry and Nicholas began to banish the blades given to them by Rock directly at the open mouth of the basilisk. Getting the hint, Severus, Moody and Tonks did the same and the basilisk hissed in agony for several seconds as it was struck by more than two dozen swords, daggers and spears before slumping to the ground.

"It is finished, Tom," said Albus, pointing his wand at Riddle.

The enraged face of Neville Longbottom looked back at him, causing him to hesitate for a fraction of a second.

"Hardly, Dumbledore. I will see you, _all of you,_ again soon." With a final sweeping glance, Riddle, in Neville's body, grasped something in his pocket and vanished with the tell-tale 'whoosh' of a portkey.

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_I await your furious reviews. :)_


	19. War Within A Breath

_A/N: Wow. Sorry again for the long delay. Moving back to the US, starting school again and having a newly pregnant wife, along with working on my other story, Magical Mars (Which you can get to from my profile page. Please.) delayed me. But it's back! Yay! Please Review. _

_Oh, and **there is about a one year jump forward in time from the end of the battle in the Chamber of Secrets. **_

* * *

**War Within A Breath **

Albus Dumbledore felt old. He actually was quite old, of that there was no doubt, but there had always been a subtle energy that he could always feel deep inside himself. Now, he was just tired. The year since the fight in the Chamber of Secrets had been one of the most difficult of his life, and there was little to indicate things would improve anytime soon.

Sitting in his office at Hogwarts, Albus tiredly placed a coconut flavored hard candy in his mouth, which he sucked on thoughtfully for a moment before there was a knock at the door.

"Come in, Harry," said Albus.

Harry Potter, now nominally a second year, though some in the wizarding world were aware there was something very different about him from a normal student, limped into his office. His leg was wrapped in a magical bandage that pulsed every few seconds as the healing spell worked its magic. His hair was shorter than it had been in the past, and several new scars adorned his face to compliment the well-known lighting bolt.

"Albus," greeted Harry as he sat down heavily in one of the chairs across from the headmaster.

The two sat silently for a minute, taking advantage of the calm the office provided. Fawkes warbled a short phoenix song from his perch by the window and Harry smiled for a moment before he spoke.

"There's nothing new happening. Riddle is too far away for me to sense anything through our connection." Harry didn't say anymore, but the look on his face made clear to Albus what he was thinking.

"We have discussed this several times. I do not believe it would be wise to antagonize him," said Albus.

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Albus, he's taking this time to build up his strength. If we badger and harass him, it will throw him off - distract him. Each day he's left alone, he gets stronger and more confident."

"You believe we are ignoring him?" asked Albus.

"Having a few witches and wizards tracking him and spying isn't going to affect the situation one way or the other."

"Perhaps you are correct," admitted Albus with a sigh as he leaned back in his chair and rested his head against the backrest. "I must admit that many, if not most, of your strategies have been extremely successful. I only question the wisdom of seeking a confrontation with Riddle outside of Britain. The island is where our strength lies."

Harry nodded in agreement but continued to argue. "The ministry can't protect all of Europe. It's not right that we're forcing the other ministries to fend for themselves when we're responsible."

"What would you have us do?" asked Albus.

"We need to send a force to attack his strongholds. We need to work with the goblins to cut off his money supply and we need to work with other ministries and other organizations to limit his resources!"

Harry slapped the table in frustration, causing Fawkes to chirp with surprise. He visibly reigned in his temper and breathed deeply several times before meeting Albus' eyes and speaking with short, clipped words.

"We can't sit here and do nothing but wait. We have to act. He's getting stronger every day, Albus. We both know I'm the only one who can end this, but so does he, and things like this," Harry waved towards his bandaged leg, "are going to keep happening until we kill him and his followers."

Albus mentally flinched at Harry's vehemence when he spoke of killing Riddle and his hundreds of new and returned Death Eaters on the continent. When he spoke, it was with measured calm.

"Winter break is coming. You should not leave Hogwarts when class is in session. It would raise far too many questions and possibly alert Tom. If you can wait until then, I will help you organize a force to seek out and destroy one of his headquarters. Will that be acceptable?" asked Albus, though he spoke with a tone of finality.

"I guess it will have to be," said Harry. "Don't mention it to Remus. His health is still pretty off, but he'll still want to come."

"I agree. I will contact Amelia and let her know of our plans and that you wish to speak with Ragnok. They are meeting with the muggle prime minister this afternoon. Perhaps the goblins will be interested in joining you."

Harry's smile reminded Albus of the creatures he had just mentioned. "I would be surprised if they didn't demand to."

* * *

"I think I'm starting to understand you, Padfoot."

"Oh yeah?" asked Sirius warily.

"Yes. Yes, I do. What's wrong with a little bit of firewhiskey for breakfast?" asked an inebriated Remus Lupin.

"It doesn't go very well with eggs."

"But the beans! You can just pour a dollop in them and they are delicious." Remus demonstrated exactly that, though his hand slipped, drowning his breakfast in Odgen's finest, rendering it inedible.

Remus sighed heavily before throwing his plate across the room in a sudden burst of rage, where it shattered against the stone wall. The sleeve of his robes had been pulled up as he raised his arm and didn't slide back, exposing his mutilated and scarred skin. He saw Sirius glance at it and quickly tugged his sleeve back down.

"What in Merlin's name are you looking at?"

"Nothing, Moony. Hand me the bottle?" requested Sirius.

Remus slid the firewhiskey across the table where Sirius took a sniff and popped the cork back into the bottle.

"What are you doing?" demanded Remus.

"No more this morning. I've got class and you have to go see the healers. Bill is going to take you to St. Mungos in a bit," Sirius informed him.

Remus sagged back and rubbed the stump where his right leg used to be, moaning pitifully. "Those useless squibs can't do anything. They just make it hurt worse."

"They're doing the best they can," said Sirius. "I know it's frustrating, but remember what Moody said. It took him almost two years of therapy before they could fit him for a leg that didn't cause him pain with every step."

"I guess I'm not as strong as the Great Mad-Eye Moody, then!" spat Remus.

"Stop. It's too early to listen to you feeling sorry for yourself. You know your transformations set back the treatments, so stop it."

Remus rubbed his leg again and then ran a hand through what was left of his hair. It was thinner than a year ago and almost completely gray. His face was lined with wrinkles and scar tissue and his cheeks were sunken in slightly. Even for a werewolf, he was aging unnaturally fast. The curses Riddle had hit him with, as well as the ensuing year of pain caused by the burns, the accompanying treatment and the aggravation of his injuries from his monthly transformations, had taken a toll on him that Sirius sometimes thought was almost as bad as his own time in Azkaban.

"Alright, Padfoot," Remus said weakly. "Help me to the bed. I want to sleep until Bill gets here if you're not going to let me drink."

The two friends stumbled towards the bedroom together, lost in separate thoughts.

* * *

Bill and Arthur Weasley sat in the kitchen at the Burrow, enjoying one of Molly's usual delicious breakfasts. Bill had flooed over, as he did every morning, from his flat in London. His mother had been ecstatic when he announced he was moving back to England permanently, though her joy was tempered by the news that Voldemort had returned and Bill would be on the front lines of the fight against him. When the tears finally stopped flowing and she had released the death grip on her oldest son, Molly had smiled wetly and thanked the gods, the fates and anything else she could think of that her family was still relatively safe and happy.

His father dragged Bill out of his memories. "Is everything ready for the meeting today?"

His oldest son nodded. "Ragnok seemed a bit nervous, actually. Well, as nervous as a goblin can be, I suppose."

Arthur shrugged. "Not half as nervous as Prime Minister Winthrop, I would imagine."

They each spent a few moments chewing before Bill spoke. "Dad, do you think the muggles will be able to work with the goblins?"

"I believe so. The Prime Minister is quite open minded. He's been very interested in the magical world since I met him, and one of his bodyguards, Terrance Burgundy, is actually a squib. I think it will be more difficult for the goblins to work in an environment where they don't have complete control of the economy."

"The way things are going on the continent, they won't have much control in the magical world, either."

Arthur grimaced and nodded in agreement. Father and son sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts. A few minutes later, as Bill was taking their empty dishes to the sink, Ron bounded down the stairs, surprisingly late to breakfast for the usually ravenous boy.

"Hey Bill, hey dad," he grinned at them as he began scooping food onto his plate. The changes in Ron's personality since Harry's arrival from the future did not translate into any noticeable difference in his eating habits, which caused Hermione no end of consternation when she was present. Harry had taken him aside near the end of first year and explained to Ron about his time-traveling and theory of being in a new universe that was actually an offshoot of his original one. The redhead had squinted at him in mild confusion initially before a light of understanding had lit his eyes.

"Does Hermione know?" he had asked.

"Yeah, but she's the only student who does, other than you, now," Harry explained.

"Alright," said Ron with more calm than Harry had expected. "I'm going to need to talk to her about this."

Stunned for a moment, Harry prevented his mouth from hanging open just barely. "I can show you some of my memories in the headmaster's pensieve if you don't believe me."

Ron had waved away the offer. "Let me talk to Hermione first. She's better at explaining this kind of stuff."

As a incredulous Harry watched his friend from two different universes walk off, he couldn't help but be amazed at the changes in Ron. He was much slower to anger, seemed to think before he spoke (most of the time) and had treated Hermione with more respect and kindness since starting Hogwarts than Harry could remember him displaying until they had graduated in his original time.

He had taken to the knowledge of Harry's time travel better than anyone, except for Hermione, had expected. Even after seeing Ron grow up through Harry's memories, she still only knew the relatively kind and confident twelve year old boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express. Their much healthier relationship always made Harry smile when he watched them together, causing them to blush if they noticed, thanks to their knowledge of what they became in Harry's original universe.

"Are you going to see Harry today?" Ron asked his brother and father.

They shook their heads and he suppressed a frown. The thought of being left out still rankled as much as it would anyone else, but he knew his presence at the meeting between the heads of the magical, muggle and goblin governments would be superfluous. That didn't mean he wasn't curious and somewhat disappointed. His momentary satisfaction that Harry wouldn't be there either left him feeling a bit guilty.

"He should be," he stated with certainty.

"I'll tell him you said so if I see him," said Bill, who slapped his brother on the back before walking out to the back porch to apparate to Gringotts.

Ron noticed his father looking at him with an unreadable expression. A sense of uncertainty was quickly quashed as Arthur spoke.

"I'm very proud of you, son."

Ron blushed, and the smile didn't leave his face until long after his father had apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

Severus Snape sat in his office next to the potions laboratory with a scowl on his face. His desk was covered by parchment with the vapid scrawling of his fourth year potions classes, but he had barely even glanced at them before becoming lost in thought. It was nearing the one year anniversary of the battle in the Chamber, and he couldn't help reflecting on the changes wrought by Harry Potter, formally his most hated student. He thought back to last Halloween, absently wishing he had a pensieve, and the whirlwind of information and actions that had changed everything. He hadn't had the time to absorb the information given to him that night. The idea that Potter was a time-traveler and the Dark Lord not only still existed but was planning on resurrecting himself just below the castle in the legendary Chamber of Secrets was so fantastical that he still had trouble accepting it almost a year later.

Things had taken on a stark clarity at the sight of Neville Longbottom with the voice and mannerisms of Voldemort. Severus shook his head. Riddle, Tom Riddle. Potter infuriatingly never failed to correct anyone who used the pseudonym. Severus had come to terms with the idea that the boy wasn't really a boy at all, and had faced Riddle more than enough times to call him whatever he damn well pleased. He had even managed to form a constructive relationship, though one could barely call it friendly, with the time-traveller.

Potter's desire for a confrontation with Riddle was the centerpiece of Severus' latest distraction. Albus had called him to his office and explained the conversation he'd just concluded with Harry. The idea of getting the Gringotts goblins involved with a war on the continent in conjunction with the ministry would have been absurd at any other point in history. The fact that Harry Potter was the only person able to change the status quo so dramatically was both impressive and annoying to him.

With a sigh, he forced himself to focus on the potions essays in front of him. He'd gotten about halfway through the first one when there was a knock at his door. Feeling a bit relieved that he would be able to put off reading the drivel that he'd assigned, he put the parchment down and spoke.

"Enter," he called out.

Minerva McGonagall stepped through into his office. His relationship with his old transfiguration professor had improved dramatically over the past year as all doubts about his loyalties had been laid to rest.

"Severus, how are you?"

"Disgusted with the writing abilities of the fourth years, but otherwise acceptable," he said.

She smiled slightly, but then changed expression so that he knew there was something else she was there to ask.

"What can I help you with, Minerva?"

She hesitated, causing him to briefly imagine her as a student put on the spot by a professor. "It's about Remus. The healers say they've done everything they can for him, and I was hopeful that you might have a suggestion to further his healing."

Severus grimaced. Lupin and Black were two people he still had little love for, regardless of their recent actions and civil behavior towards him. Some scars ran too deep. He was able to maintain a working relationship with Black, but couldn't bring himself to become truly friendly towards him. Lupin was slightly better, in his opinion, but his injuries had made him more and more bitter over the past year to the point where Black, Potter and Albus were the only people who freely chose to spend any significant amount of time with the crippled werewolf.

He brought his attention back to Minerva's request. Various salves and potions had healed many of the burns, though nothing could be done for his severed leg. The man was still in obvious agony, something that made even Severus cringe with the knowledge that as a werewolf, Lupin had a much higher than normal tolerance for pain. The man's natural propensity for self-doubt certainly didn't help his disposition.

"I don't know what I can do to help, more than I already have," he said, reminding her that much of the initial treatments that had saved Lupin's life had been performed by him immediately following the battle.

"I understand, and Remus knows how much you've done for him, even if he doesn't show much gratitude these days," said Minerva. "Nicolas Flamel has been working on several different solutions, as well, but he's said on multiple occasions he's never been as skilled at potions as he is at alchemy."

Severus sat up a little straighter at that bit of information. The most heralded alchemist of all-time had been unable to find a solution to help someone the centuries old wizard considered a friend. Flamel hadn't been present at Hogwarts very often since Riddle had returned, but he apparently kept in regular contact with Potter and Albus. Interest in the challenge of finding a successful treatment for Lupin began to percolate in his mind despite himself and he nodded to Minerva.

"I'll do some research and see what I can find out. I won't make any promises."

Minerva smiled at him with pride and gratitude that made Severus feel uneasy. "Thank you, Severus. I appreciate it, and so will the others."

"It's a challenge. I am not doing it out of the kindness of my heart," he said.

"Of course," said Minerva as she let herself out.

* * *

Prime Minister Samuel Winthrop glanced at his fireplace. Based on his limited knowledge of the history between the muggle and magical governments, he was certain that the fireplace had seen more use over the past two years than in its entire existence prior to the day Amelia Bones had first emerged from it to inform him of the magical world. Since that day, the Prime Minster's office and the Muggle Relations Department of the Ministry of Magic had remained in close contact, mostly through its head, Arthur Weasley. The prime minister was waiting for his redheaded friend now, as a matter of fact, and was slightly concerned at the usually punctual man's tardiness. Just as his concern was about to turn into worry, a flare of green flames put his mind at ease as Arthur Weasley emerged from the fireplace, followed by Amelia Bones, her secretary Michelle Alton and two odd looking creatures the prime minister knew to be goblins, though he had never met one before.

"Prime Minister Winthrop," greeted Amelia. "May I introduce Chief Ragnok of the Goblin Nation."

The goblin, who was just over four feet tall and wearing what looked to be a green leather body suit, walked over to the prime minister and held out a hand that ended with sharp looking claw-like fingers. Doing his best not to appear uncomfortable, Winthrop shook Ragnok's hand and went through the rest of the introductions before inviting the rest of the group to sit at a conference table.

After they had all sat down, Winthrop offered refreshments. The second goblin, who had introduced himself as Rockspear, was the only one to accept, asking for a cup of coffee. The innocuousness of the request made it that much stranger, and Winthrop noticed that the other goblin seemed a bit surprised as well. The other humans didn't seem to find it unusual.

"I developed a taste for it in Egypt," Rock explained to his superior's unasked question. Ragnok's expression conveyed immediate understanding and Winthrop had already figured out two things: goblins didn't normally drink coffee, and were apparently quick on the uptake.

The six of them began their meeting after Arthur Weasely, who was well-known to the prime minster's staff, retrieved Rock's coffee along with several bottles of water for the others.

"Before we make any decisions," said Amelia, "I need to inform you of a conversation I had earlier today with Albus Dumbledore."

Winthrop was familiar with the name, though he hadn't met the wizard himself.

"Harry Potter has determined that we need to go after Riddle directly. Albus agrees, though with some provisos, and I do as well."

Ragnok looked thoughtful while Rock grinned widely, showing off some impressive teeth that caused a flutter of nervousness in the prime minster's stomach.

Arthur seemed a bit flustered. "I didn't think the aurors were ready for that yet."

Amelia nodded. "That's true for most of them. However, I believe we can field up to thirty aurors for strategic quick strikes against known Death Eater strongholds. Harry also wanted to make a request of the two of you," she indicated Ragnok and Winthrop.

"Riddle is in a position where potential growth for his goals and organization is almost assured. The magical populations of Europe are not nearly as organized or centralized as in Britain. He has also severely limited his attacks in the areas where he has been recruiting, further limiting any potential resistance as the ministries on the continent feel little threat from a group that has remained mostly underground.

"That said, Riddle has been recruiting in large numbers with the specific goal of taking Britain. His strategy seems to take into account the mobilization of the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix. He seems to be unaware, so far, of any goblin involvement. We also believe he is totally unaware of any muggle contacts or relationships the Ministry of Magic currently has.

"That's where the two of you come in. Harry, Albus and I feel that with the assistance of the goblin's financial network and the prime minster's contacts in the muggle governments of the affected countries, we could pinpoint the locations of many of Riddle's strongholds. Any other assistance, while obviously voluntary, would be much appreciated."

The two other leaders sitting at the table paused in thought for a moment. Ragnok was the first to speak. "Minister, the Goblin Nation and the Ministry of Magic have been working together closely over the past year. More closely, I believe, than ever before. The goblin high council does not believe Riddle is aware of this. As you told me during our first meeting, 'We must all hang together, else we shall hang separately'. We are prepared to ally ourselves completely with you until the destruction of Riddle and the Death Eater threat."

Winthrop watched the expressions of the others. Rockspear was hard to read, as he didn't know if expressions on a goblin's face had the same meanings as a human's. Arthur's mouth had formed a small 'o' of surprise for a moment before he had schooled his face into something approximating neutrality, though he could sense his friend desperately wanted to smile. Amelia and her assistant were both grinning, though while Michelle seemed genuinely pleased, Amelia's expression seemed to promise pain to someone. It was oddly similar to the goblins', after he considered it a moment. He decided to weigh in with his decision.

"Her Majesty's Government is willing to assist in any and all ways possible. We are prepared to put our full support, including our military and intelligence services, behind your ministry as well as this Harry Potter I've heard so much about, and hope to meet someday soon."

Amelia smiled at him, while the goblins looked at him with obvious approval. It made him feel oddly proud.

"Thank you for your offer, Prime Minister," said Amelia. "If there's anything I believe you can help us with, I'll let you know. I don't know how well your police forces could do against wizards, though. Perhaps we could assist you in training some of your government to help protect non-magical citizens."

Arthur winced a bit, remembering how only a few years ago he had been equally mis-informed about muggle abilities and technology. His friendship and interaction with the prime minister, along with his position as head of the Muggle Relations Department had rectified that over the past two years. He decided to try and correct his superior as gently as possible before Samuel was offended too badly.

"Minister," he started. "There's a few things about muggle technology you might not be aware of..."

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